


Hell's Angels

by WickedWitchofCupcakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Romance, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Character Death, Death, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Heaven, Heaven doesn't have a vacancy, Heaven is a mess, Heavenly Civil War, I promise there's fluff, M/M, Profound Bond, Purgatory, Romance, There's also pain though, and death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7172444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedWitchofCupcakes/pseuds/WickedWitchofCupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe where Dean died on a hunt, but due to Heaven's overpopulation he's stuck in Heaven's Waiting Room for eternity. That is, until a certain rebellious angel and his army stage a siege on it, and he's inevitably dragged into the Heavenly Civil War that's been waging ever since Heaven's run out of vacancies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've already finished this story so I'll be uploading it weekly on Saturdays. Let me know if you enjoy it/have any suggestions, I love feedback (good and bad)!

Dean Winchester was dead. He had been for three months. If he had to be honest, Heaven was a lot more boring than he had expected. Just white walls and endless benches packed with bored, crying, frustrated, tired people. At least in doctor’s offices they gave you some gossip magazines to dull your mind. Here there was barely room for all the people on the benches, let alone for coffee tables with magazines. 

On the first day he had walked for hours just to find an exit, or a window, or a door, or  _ anything really _ . He never did though because an angel had “politely escorted” him back to his seat. 

That was another thing. The angels were douchebags. Total. Utter. Douchebags. And not to mention condescending. It was only made worse by the fact that everyone else trapped in the holy Waiting Room adored them. They fawned and fainted every time one of the arrogant jerks showed up. One time some idiot started bowing to Raphael, and all the other sheep followed along. Dean was the only one left standing for miles. He glared at Raphael and crossed his arms. Like hell would he bow down to that asshole.

But Raphael still wasn’t as bad as Zachariah. That guy just pushed Dean’s buttons. He was patronizing and egotistical. Dean would silently fume every time he remembered how Zachariah had welcomed him to Heaven’s Waiting Room and explained how heaven was currently full. When Zachariah had given Dean a number and told him to enjoy the wait, Dean punched him in the face. That didn’t go over too well and Dean was nearly kicked out. He was almost happy because in a way he’d prefer to be stuck in actual Hell than this horrible Waiting Room. At least in Hell they acknowledge that they’re purposely trying to torture you. Much to Dean’s dismay however, he had a reserved seat and Heaven could forgive his “brash actions on account of the stress he must be feeling having so recently left the earthly plane of life.” Not that Zachariah was really that hurt by the punch. He was an angel after all (plus he deserved it).

Michael was the worst of them all, though. Dean would give up his spot on line without a moment’s hesitation if he could just spit in the guy’s coffee. Unfortunately for Dean, he never came out of his office. But boy oh boy, did the stiffs around Heaven worship him. They had never seen the guy but they gossiped and narrated stories and legends about the “great and powerful” Michael. What a load of bullshit. Even the angels were affected. They almost never brought him up. When they did his name was spoken with the utmost respect, almost to the point of fear. Dean was convinced that it was the angels spreading fake stories about a fake angel in order to keep people occupied and restore their faith in the angels.

_ “I heard that Michael single handedly defeated a horde of demons in order to save one innocent soul.” _

_ “Oh yeah? Well I heard that he was the driving force behind defeating Lucifer and putting him in the Pit.”  _

The over the top stories made Dean roll his eyes.

_ “Louis told me, and this is true, that Michael is never around because he’s too busy leading his legion to fight against those rebellious angels.” _

_ “You mean the Hell’s Angels?” _

_ “Yeah. He’s so valiant trying to fight off those horrible demon angels in order to get more land for Heaven so we can get in.” _

Dean seriously doubted that the “Hell’s Angels” even existed. He was sure that they were just as fake as Michael. The angels just refused to admit that they were too lazy and apathetic to make more room for the people in the Waiting Room. The entire thing just baffled him. 

“Dean,” Rosalie, the elderly women who sat next to Dean said, “you’re going to ruin your pretty face with all those wrinkles if you keep frowning all the time.”

“We’re ghosts,” Dean pointed out. “Wrinkles are the last thing on my mind right now.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes, her usual reaction to Dean’s melodrama. Then her eyes lazily followed two figures walking down the hallway towards them.

“Welcome to Heaven.” An angel said, walking with a frightened looking young girl. Her eyes were wide with confusion as she tried to absorb her new situation. “I am the angel Uriel. Heaven currently has no vacancies. Here is your number. It may be a while, so I suggest getting to know your neighbors.”

Uriel and Dean glared at each other as they walked by. 

“ _ Uriel.”  _ Dean growled.

“61911011034567.” Uriel said, and moved on.

“The name’s  _ Dean Winchester. _ ” Dean said. This painfully reminded Dean of the number that had ingrained itself into the skin of his chest, easily the worst tattoo he’d ever gotten (although that one with the pie was pretty bad). A similarly long number stamped on the other people’s chests identified each person awaiting a vacancy in Heaven, and each prayed that their number would be called. 

Uriel tossed all this information at the girl as if he were throwing snowballs filled with ice at her. They hit her in the face but she didn’t absorb what was being told to her. 

“W-wait. Please.” She said. She looked ready to puke. “I don’t understand. I can’t be dead. I was just walking to work.”

“That’s true, but you should have looked both ways while crossing the street.” Uriel said, emotionlessly. It seemed he was used to this routine. The girl started to hyperventilate. Uriel ignored that. “You’ll come to terms with it soon…”

The angels had told Dean on multiple occasions not to get up from his seat. He had never listened, and he wasn’t about to.

“Hi, name’s Dean Winchester.” He said, and offered his hand to the girl. She was still scared, but took it.

“M-Martha.” 

“Nice to meet you Martha. Where ya from?” Dean asked casually. Uriel’s eyes flared. Dean was sure they would soon start flaming.  _ Let’s see if I can make him set his own head on fire. _

“Um. Newsbury, Oklahoma.”

“Newsbury! Drove through there once. Great burger joint.”

“The Greasy Grill?” Martha asked.

“That’s the one.”

“They have the best onion rings.” She said with a slight smile at the memory. She looked past Dean as if there was someone there offering her onion rings dripping in oil and still hot enough to burn your tongue. 

“61911011034567 sit down or I will have to use force.” Uriel threatened. His words suggested that the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Dean, but Dean could tell from his tone and the look in his eyes that he would like nothing more than to pumble Dean’s head between two of the Waiting Room chairs.

“ _ Alright. Alright. _ Calm your halo. I’m sitting down.” Dean said, and reluctantly sat back down in his seat. Martha looked sad, but at least she seemed a little more at ease. Dean gave her a wave as Uriel shoved her down the hallway while listing the rules of Heaven’s Waiting Room, which Dean had made his personal mission to break every single one of.

Dean tried to take his mind off the unbearable waiting. There was nothing to do except listen to those  _ BS  _ stories and he certainly wasn’t going to do that. So his mind wandered to where it usually did. His brother Sam. 

Dean didn’t remember a lot about his death, but he did remember the utter heartbreak on Sam’s face. That was etched in his mind for eternity. Dean had failed him. Yet he had still somehow gotten into Heaven. He tugged at the necklace Sam had given him years ago, and wondered where Sam was. He supposed it was good that he hadn’t seen Sam since he had died, but that didn’t mean much. The Waiting Room was eternal and it was all too likely that Sam was somewhere here and Dean would just never know. And he knew the angels would never let him leave his seat for long enough to find him, if he even could. Worse yet, Sam could be dead but not in Heaven. Dean refused to even consider that. Instead he imagined Sam happily back at Stanford. Maybe Sam had gone back to pursue the dream that Dean had so violently torn him away from. In that sense, Dean had done Sam a favor (if he hadn’t gotten him killed of course). 

Images of Sammy studying in Stanford’s dusty libraries with his close-knit group of normal friends, laughing at a joke he had just made, were slammed out of Dean’s head when he heard an explosion a further down the Waiting Room hallway. He couldn’t see any smoke or fire from where he was. It must have been very far down.

Rosalie looked down the hallway.

“Do you think that could be the Hell’s Angels?” She asked. There was worry in her voice. 

“Pfft. Nah. Those guys aren’t real.” Dean said. Then there was a second explosion, and for a moment Dean doubted himself.

“That sounded closer.” Rosalie said. Dean was about contradict her, when a flash of red thrust him from his chair. 

Rosalie’s screams were smothered by the boom of the explosion. Dean lifted his pounding head. Even though he was dead, everything still hurt. The broken plaster of the walls dug into his ribs. Dean pushed rubble and broken chairs off himself. The swirling reds, yellows, and oranges of the fire reflected off the white wall to give the Waiting Room an eerie fiery glow. The lights flickered and dimmed. The black smoke obscured the gaping hole left in the wall. Dean rubbed ash off his face. If he was still alive, Dean wasn’t sure he would have survived that. Luckily, surviving wasn’t something he needed to worry about anymore. 

Then a silhouette swam through the misty sea of smoke and debris. Dean located Rosalie lying beside him. She clutched his arm fearfully and whispered, “ _ It’s the Hell’s Angels.” _

Dean didn’t say anything. He looked back at the wall of smoke. The figure took another step forward, and his very presence seemed to will the smoke out of his way. His foot was covered in armor which continued up the rest of his body and entwined his chest in shiny silver metal. The smoke didn’t affect it at all, and it shone like a beacon in the faint light. Dean followed the armor up to his face and froze when he locked eyes with the strange man. His blue eyes dug into Dean’s soul and threatened to tear it out. For the first time in weeks, Dean’s heart thumped. It surprised him almost as much as the armored man did. He was dead. His heart hadn’t beat since that night, but he couldn’t dismiss the pounding in his chest. The man held out his hand and Dean’s heart stopped. 

“My name is Castiel. Angel of the Lord. Come with me if you want to get into Heaven.” He said. 

Dean could feel Rosalie trembling next to him. Everything in the room was still except for the smoke slowly fading away. 

“You can get us into Heaven?” someone asked, peeking his head over a charred chair. 

“Yes,” He answered. More angels appeared behind him. “But we must move quickly before the legion arrives.”

The angels dispersed down the hallway. Each angel tossed away rubble and broken tiles to dig out a person. They would cradle the person, and in the next instant disappear. An angel for each person. And for each angel that disappeared, another would rush in to care for the next person. 

One angel reached his hand to Rosalie. Dean could only gape as she let go of his arm and took hold of the angel’s. Dean had gotten to know Rosalie well over the past three months. He knew everything about how she lived, childhood friends, awkward boyfriend experiences, marriage hardships, and everything about how she died. It had never occurred to Dean that her presence might disintegrate so unexpectedly, but her hand was gone now and it was too late to get it back. 

A new, unfamiliar hand laid itself on Dean’s shoulder. He looked up to find the angel Castiel.

“Where did Rosalie go?” Dean asked.

“She should be at the safehouse by now.” The angel answered. “If we leave now we can make it there before the legion arrives.”

“What makes you think I’m going to let you winged monkeys zap me around?! I met you less than a minute ago,” Dean said. 

“I do not have time to argue such miniscule complaints,” the angel said. “We need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dean said. The Waiting Room was the epitome of everything Dean hated, but it was still better than trusting some random angels he didn’t know. He didn’t trust the angels he  _ did  _ know. The angel standing before Dean squinted his eyes.

“Dean Winchester,” he began. This actually startled Dean who hadn’t heard an angel call him by his name before. “You can waste eternity away staying trapped here. Or you can trust me.”

The angel held out his hand. Dean raised his eyebrow.

“You think some sappy line about trust will change my mind?” He asked. The angel put his hand down and frowned.

“You are very troublesome.” Castiel said. Dean scowled. He was used to this treatment from angels, yet the tone Castiel used wasn’t frustrated but almost...observational.

The sounds of boots marching in rhythm echoed through the never-ending hallway. An angel rushed to Castiel and said between breathes, “We’re out of time.”

Castiel frowned and gazed anxiously down the hallway. Then he turned back to his squadron, “Carry out Balthazar’s retreat plan.”

The angels immediately reacted to the command. Everywhere swords, bows and arrows, even a few axes, were unsheathed. Meanwhile angels crossed and zigzagged through each other until they had found their position in the phalanx. And suddenly Dean found himself as a solitary human in a sea of holy beings.

“What the hell? What’s going on?” He asked Castiel, who was apparently in charge. He turned to Dean.

“It’s Michael’s legion,” He explained. Then he called to an angel. She immediately stood at attention. “Anna, take Dean to the safehouse.”

Immediately, both Anna and Dean started protesting. Castiel stood his ground.

“You need me on the battlefield.” Anna pointed out.

“There’s no way I’m missing out on ‘Michael’ getting his ass handed to him.” Dean said, although he was all too aware that the fight would likely go the other way. “I’m already dead. It’s not like it can get any worse.”

“Trust me, it can,” Castiel said. His brow furrowed in thought. “Dean, you cannot see this fight. It may very well vaporize your soul.”

The conversation was interrupted by another angel.

“Castiel, they’ve cut off the exits with holy fire,” the angel said. Dean was shocked to hear  _ worry  _ in the angel’s voice. Angels rarely showed emotion, let alone revealed weakness. This must’ve been worse than he imagined. He looked to Castiel to see if he too was worried, but Castiel was already looking at him. They locked eyes for a second.

“What?” Dean asked. Castiel broke their eye contact and turned to Anna. 

“Anna, I need to you take Dean and protect him while he extinguishes the fires,” He said, and then looked back at Dean. “Dean because you’re the only human here, we need you to extinguish the holy fire so that our squadron won’t be trapped.”

Anna and Dean were surprised by this. It was a risky job which could mean either the success or decimation of the force, and Castiel had given it to a complete stranger. 

“Anna,” Castiel said.

“Commander?”

“Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

“ _ Hey!”  _ Dean said. Anna handed him a sword, which was heavier in his hand than his usual knife. 

“Hopefully you won’t need that.” Anna said. It had been a while since Dean had fought and he hoped he wasn’t rusty. Not to mention he had never fought an angel before. But boy oh boy, had he daydreamed about it while restlessly sitting in the Waiting Room.

Anna led Dean off into the smoke that curled from the hole in the wall. More armored angels started rushing past him and into the Waiting Room. Behind him, he heard the clash of metal on metal, and then explosions and yells which created the symphony of battle. 

Dean wasn’t sure where they were. It looked too much like a gray office building to be Heaven, but he figured it must be. They rushed past cubicles, many of which had been tainted by the dark blast of the explosion. 

“How do you know where the holy fire is?” Dean asked. All the long hallways looked exactly the same to him. Just bare, white doors as far as the eye could see.

“They’ll have cut off our entrance. It’s a weak point we were able to find in Heaven’s defenses. We left angels to protect it so we could have an escape, but they must have been compromised. At least we were able to get those souls across,” Anna said. She glanced at Dean. “Well, most of them.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Do you have any idea how to put out holy fire?” Dean asked. 

“Same way you put out normal fire.” Anna said.

“That shouldn’t be too hard, then.”

“Putting out the fire isn’t the hard part, it’s getting around the angels guarding it. All you need to do is put out one small portion, and the entire circle will be cut off.  _ But don’t let any angels catch you.” _

“Got it. Put out fire. Angels bad. Still doesn’t seem that hard.”

They continued onwards, yet they didn’t run into any angels, Hell’s Angels or not. It seemed to put Anna even more on edge. When they finally got to the fire, Dean was very underwhelmed. It was barely more than a spark. Dean raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“This is the holy fire that you’re all worked up over?” He asked.

 

“It has a greater effect on us than you,” Anna said with a scowl. She kept glancing around nervously. “Would you just put it out? I’m going to secure the perimeter.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He stepped forward cautiously. Maybe he was missing something, but this seemed too easy. He raised his foot to stomp out the fire, when suddenly a shadow swept over the flames. He looked up to see one of Heaven’s angels. He was wearing gilded armor that encased him in a layer of silver protection. Dean’s reflection stared back at him from the armor. 

“A human?” The angel asked, almost confused by the thought of a human not being attached to an angel leash. Then his face changed as he recognized Dean. “61911011034567.”

“Oh great. My reputation precedes me.” Dean said. He slashed the angel’s armor with his sword, but it did little more than dent his pristine armor. The dent did piss the angel off though. 

The angel grabbed Dean by the collar, and kicked his sword away. Dean heard Anna unsheath her sword. The angel holding Dean didn’t seem to notice or care. She swung her sword but the angel was faster and easily blocked her swing. He laughed and repelled another of her attacks, while still using one hand to restrain Dean. Anna faked to the right but the angel predicted this, dodged and then drove his sword through her tarnished armor. 

The sword glowed with a strange blue light. Dean’s eyes widened in shock. The angel dragged his sword upwards, widening the wound that was already being filled by blood. Anna couldn’t even gasp in shock or pain because all her air was escaping through the gaping hole in her lungs. The angel smiled as Anna tried to keep all her intestines inside her body. 

Dean kicked the angel, who turned angrily towards him. Dean headbutted him, and as he stumbled back, he grabbed the angel’s hair and pushed him face first into the holy fire. The angel’s screams of pain pierced the air. Dean pressed down harder as he convulsed violently and tried to move away but Dean pushed him down.

Finally the screams stopped and only Anna’s gasps for air and the sounds of her drowning in her own blood could be heard. Then, starting from the fallen angel’s head and spreading outwards, the fire extinguished. The angel’s body sat unmoving on the ground.

Dean left the still body and ran to Anna. His eyes scanned her frantically. He had seen his share of injuries and knew which you could make it out of and which you couldn’t, and he didn’t like how this looked for Anna at all. He took her hand, which was slippery with a sheen of blood. Tears filled her crystalline eyes.

“Castiel!” Dean begged. 

“Castiel!” He tried again. With each shout, Anna shuddered.  _ Please. Please _ . Anna’s eyes locked onto something behind Dean. He tensed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fight an angel, but a hand firmly rested on his shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief. Words wouldn’t come to him. Castiel just took his hand and then touched a finger to Anna’s head.

“Castiel,” a new voice said. It was commanding and made Dean pause for a second. Then Castiel tightly squeezed Dean’s hand, and they were gone.

A flap of wings and suddenly they were in a warehouse. Makeshift cots held angels covered in bloody bandages and slings. Dean jumped in shock.

“Don’t be afraid. I teleported us,” Castiel explained. “Welcome to our base.”

Dean was glad to see that he still had all his limbs safely attached. He had seen and heard of angels teleporting, but had never actually experienced it himself. He felt a little queasy.

Then Castiel bent down and examined Anna. He whispered something to her, and her face melted into a blank yet relaxed gaze. Castiel then called one of the few angels who wasn’t injured. The angel pressed his fingers to Anna’s head and then gently lifted her up and carried her to the other side of the warehouse. They disappeared behind a curtain.

“She’s not going to make it,” Dean said. Castiel looked at him knowingly.

“Have faith, my friend.” 

“Have faith?!” Dean cried, causing some of the more conscious angels to look at him. He lowered his voice. “For christ’s sake, her guts were falling out! It’s hopeless.”

“Then why did you call my name?” Castiel asked. Dean stumbled to find a reason, but he couldn’t think of an answer.

“You’ve been hurt,” Castiel noticed, and locked his eyes on a small burn on Dean’s hand.

“Huh. I didn’t even feel anything,” Dean said. Castiel placed his hands on Dean’s head.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Dean asked, crossing his eyes to see Castiel’s hand.

“I’m healing you,” he said. Sure enough, when he took his fingers away, Dean’s burn was completely healed. Not even a scar was visible.

“Healing humans is much simpler than healing angels,” Castiel explained when he saw Dean gazing around at the rows upon rows of wounded angels.

“Castiel, who was that voice we heard just before we left?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have imagined it.” Castiel answered.

“Don’t give me that crap! I know what I heard.” Dean said angrily. Castiel gazed at him for a moment. Then he took a breath and looked away.

“All the humans should have been safely transported to the safehouse by now,” Castiel said, changing the conversation. Dean rolled his eyes at his subtlety. “This is an angels only base, except of course for you. I’ll find you a place to stay until we can get you to the safe house.”

Castiel strode through the cots, pausing every now and then to say an encouraging word to an angel. Dean was bothered that his question had been shoved aside, but followed anyway. 

Meanwhile, Dean took the opportunity to examine his new surroundings. They were pretty pitiful. There were no defenses or even any guards. If anyone should attack, it would be a bloodbath. Forgetting that, the warehouse itself was in pathetic shape. All paint had long ago been chipped off from the walls, and the metal insides were now exposed and covered in rust. The windows were broken and the floor had layers of grime. 

“This is your base?” Dean asked.

“Yes. We’re constantly on the move. This is the best we could find, but it conceals us for now.”

“And where exactly are we?”

“Earth. Heaven is far too risky.”

Dean stopped walking. He had to be sure he heard that right.

“Earth?!” He asked. Castiel nodded.

“That is the name currently in use?” Castiel asked. “I was personally a fan of Terra but…”

“That can’t be. I’m dead! I can’t be back on Earth.” Dean said, trying to absorb what was happening.

“I can understand that this must be a lot for you to comprehend-” Castiel began, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“A lot to comprehend?!” Dean cried, and shoved Castiel’s hand off. “I’ve been dead for months, then I’m suddenly thrown into the middle of an angel civil war. Then I see an angel, an immortal angel, torn to pieces in front of me and I’m told to just believe that she’ll be alright. And then I’m teleported, against my will, to this crappy warehouse! And you refuse to answer my question about who that voice was! So yes, that IS a lot for me to comprehend.”

Dean was fuming. Castiel was stoic and stared emotionlessly, seeming to Dean more like a statue of an angel in some art museum than an actual live angel.

“Dean, I think you need to get some rest.” Castiel said calming, breaking his statue-like composure.

“I’m dead. I’m  _ always  _ at rest!” Dean yelled, angry at Castiel and angry at the angels and angry at God for doing this to him. Castiel reached out his hand. Dean tried to shove him away, but he already had his fingers on his temples. His eyes became weights and he slouched forward. Castiel caught him as Dean gripped his arms tightly to avoid falling. Dean fought to avoid losing consciousness. He mumbled something inaudible as Castiel held him up.

“Rest.”

Dean used the last of his strength to try to punch Castiel in the face. He barely raised his hand when he lost consciousness. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel tries to convince Dean to help him.

Dean moaned and rubbed his weary eyes. The light that teased through the holes in the wall made his head throb. For a horrible moment, he actually thought he was still alive. He thought he was on a hunt with Sammy, that they were camping out in some abandoned shithole. Then he remembered with painful clarity that he was dead, and lying in some crappy angel hideout. A hideout that was on Earth.

There were no angels around. He silently got up and poked his head out the door. There were only a few angels around, and they all were occupied with healing the wounded. No sign of Castiel. Dean made up his mind.

He crossed his fingers and placed his hands on the wall. Immediately, his hand phased through, followed by his arms and body. Face first, he slammed into the dirt. It was all worth it though. Dean got up, dusted off his jeans, and started to run for the nearest gas station.

"I'm coming, Sammy." He promised.

It didn't take long for Dean to track Sam down because he wasn't using a fake name. Hope that Sam was alive and unharmed inspired Dean as he hitched-hiked his way to California. That wasn't hard at all because no one could actually see Dean.

All worries of Sam's well being evaporated when Dean saw the familiar sight of his impala. Sammy had taken good care of his baby. Gazing inside, he saw that Sam had kept the mixtapes of classic rock music. Dean knew that once he found Sam, they would be able to fix things and go back to the family business. He just had to find Sam.

That's when he heard his brother's laugh. A wave of emotion hit him that felt comforting yet simultaneously seemed to mock him because it represented all the good times he had once shared with his brother. He gathered his courage and turned around. It took him a second, but then he recognized his brother.

Sam had grown his hair out, and his face had matured a surprising amount from when Dean last saw him. He looked healthy, only a few scars from ancient monsters were left as clues to his past. What's more, he had his arm around a girl. They both laughed at something, and Dean could tell from the way they looked at each other that they truly enjoyed each other's company.

Dean had been determined to find Sam and he felt that together they'd be able to fix all the mistakes, and get back on the road. Now he wasn't so sure. Seeing Sam so happy was a relief, yet Dean knew that if he were to reveal himself to Sam, he'd poison the life that Sam had always dreamt of.

The pair walked towards Dean, not seeing him. Dean could theoretically make himself visible any second, but he didn't. Instead, he watched as Sam and the girl walked to the impala. He jumped when Sam walked right through his ghostly figure. Sam sat driver's seat, revved up the engine, and a Kansas song came on.

As they drove off, Sam driving and the girl sitting shotgun, painful memories of the times Dean and Sam had in that car tore at Dean's chest. That was over now. Dean was dead and would stay dead. And that was the best for Sammy.

All purpose had left Dean. He supposed he should go back to the Hell's Angels, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he found himself where every cliche "I'm dead" story ends up eventually: his own grave.

It was pathetically small, he thought. The inscription pissed him off, There'll be peace when you are done. What a load of bullcrap.

The worst part was it was next to his mother and father's gravestones. The cruel irony that this was the way the Winchester's would be reunited made him angry at God. If there even was a God. Dean spit on the grave.

Then he saw a shadow sneak behind a tree across the way. His experience instantly made him move to investigate. But then a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned his head suddenly.

"Castiel." He said.

"Dean," Castiel said. He wasn't looking at Dean, but down at his gravestone.

"Ya know," Dean began, also gazing at his gravestone. "I thought death would be the end of it. I thought there'd be white puffy clouds, and cherubs, and pies, and hot chicks. I didn't think I'd be a ghost, or that Heaven would be even more screwed up than Earth."

"Heaven is in turmoil. It's run out of space for fresh souls. It's been overcrowded. Dean, if we don't do something there will be ghosts and lost souls trapped outside Heaven forever. Some will be forced to wander the Earth in the same form you're in now. A ghost." Castiel explained. "And eventually, they'll be driven insane by the years of purposeless wandering."

"Huh. So Heaven doesn't have a vacancy," Dean said. "So how exactly have you been fixing that?"

"We've been freeing souls from the Waiting Rooms, and giving them temporary spaces until a final solution can be found." Castiel said.

"I don't understand," Dean said. "You're angels. Can't you just make more space?"

"No, God made Heaven and only God can renovate Heaven." Castiel explained

"Why would he design it that way?" Dean asked. Castiel paused before answering.

"Because he intends to come back." Castiel said. Dean didn't respond. He didn't even believe in God, let alone that he would come back to fix the current mess that was Heaven.

"What about the Waiting Room?" Dean asked. "It goes on forever."

"Yes, those were designed to expand forever." Castiel said. "Heaven plans to let it continue to expand as more souls enter, and not bother with expanding Heaven."

"Staying in the Waiting Room forever? Sounds a lot more like Hell than Heaven to me." Dean said. Castiel nodded solemnly.

"That's why my angels and I have split away. We refuse to let innocent souls that deserve to enter Heaven be abandoned on the outskirts." Castiel said. "Dean, you showed bravery and intelligence when you saved my squadron. You would be a valuable asset to us, especially with your experience."

"How are you planning to save Heaven?" Dean asked, ignoring Castiel's offer. He failed to see what further use he could be as a ghost.

"We need to find God." Castiel said. Dean raised his eyebrow skeptically. Apparently that wasn't the reaction Castiel was hoping for.

"Do you have a backup plan?" Dean asked. Castiel pursed his lips and didn't answer. They were both silent for a few moments. A single leaf slowly fell onto Dean's grave.

"Seeing as I've no plans for the next few eternities," Dean said. "I'll help you."

Castiel smiled softly. He took Dean's hand.

"I know you think everything is hopeless," Castiel said. "But you have not been abandoned."


	3. Chapter 3

When they returned to the base, Castiel announced a meeting with all his generals. Dean refused to admit it, but he was a little nervous. The majority of angels he'd met were douches, and just because they were aligned with Castiel didn't mean they were any different.

"Don't be apprehensive." Castiel said to Dean. "I have hand-picked the finest angels, and they all have my full trust."

"It's not their capability I'm concerned about." Dean said.

He leaned back in the rusted metal chair. He and Castiel were awaiting the generals in one of the back rooms of the base. The only thing that distinguished this room from the rest of the building was the lack of windows. This seemed to be the only room that was somewhat protected from infiltration.

Then the door creaked open. Dean looked at Castiel for a moment, then at the door. An skinny teenager walked through, and Dean raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"Castiel." The angel said, and then looked at Dean.

"Samandriel." Castiel said in return. He motioned towards Dean. "This is Dean Winchester, the human from our most recent removal from the Waiting Room."

Samandriel examined Dean closely, which made him feel very uncomfortable.

"What?" Dean asked. "Something on my face?"

"No, no." Samandriel said quickly. "Forgive me. I don't have many interactions with mortals."

The door opened again, and two angels walked into the room. The woman had brunette hair and the man had an eternal frown on his face. They nodded at Castiel and Samandriel, then looked at Dean with the same intensity that Samandriel had.

"Dean Winchester." Dean said, introducing himself (mainly just to stop the staring).

"Hannah and Gadreel, thank you for coming." Castiel said. "Now we only need one more."

"Who? Me?" A voice asked from the corner. Dean turned to see a man with blonde hair lounging in a chair in the corner.

"Hello, Balthazar." Castiel said. The angel waved.

"Now that we're all here, we can begin." Castiel said. "Hannah, how is our safe house holding up?"

"Hold on a moment." Balthazar said.

"Balthazar, can we please have one meeting where you don't constantly interrupt?" Gadreel asked.

"I'd simply like to know why there's a human here who's not in the safehouse," Balthazar explained.

"Why are there angels not in Heaven?" Dean asked. "I think we're all a bit out of place."

"Oh, feisty." Balthazar said.

"May we focus, please?" Castiel asked. "I have seen Dean's skills personally, and having a mortal provides certain advantages to us. Now Hannah, what is the state of the safehouse?"

Dean wanted to know what "advantages" Castiel was talking about, but Hannah answered before he had a chance.

"The safehouse is even worse. We were already pressed for space, and now we've had to accommodate for a new mass of souls from the Waiting Room. On top of that, Heaven's forces are getting closer to finding us. We need to relocate soon." She said. Castiel scrunched his eyebrows together.

"Gadreel, what about the soldiers?" Castiel asked. Gadreel breathed deeply.

"We didn't lose as many troops as expected in our most recent raid. Fifteen were injured, but recovered, thirty-five are still in the infirmary, and twelve were lost." Gadreel said, and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately, Heaven has a new strategy of stealing angel blades from injured and killed. We've lost over half of the blades we brought."

"How many do we have?" Castiel asked.

"I haven't taken a full count yet, but I'd doubt more than a hundred."

Castiel considered this. Dean didn't know what an angel blade was, but he assumed it must be a special angel killing blade. That must've been the strange blue light he saw when Anna was injured. Dean hoped she was one of the thirty-five still in the infirmary, and not the twelve who were lost.

"Samandriel, what is the report on the enemy's movements?" Castiel asked. Dean could hear the pleading in his voice, begging for some good news.

"I lost contact with two of my spies in the past month. Another of my spies fears he is close to being discovered. I, myself, have been having more difficulties of late obtaining the more top secret plans. They definitely suspect there are moles. Security has been increasing on all levels." Samandriel said, and looked at the floor as if the entire war was his fault.

"I have learned something though," Samandriel said. Castiel looked hopeful, but Samandriel's sober tone made Dean brace himself. "They're planning something new. Something big."

Samandriel quickly glanced at Dean, and then locked his eyes on Castiel.

"I think we need to increase our own security. And I think we should find a new base. Soon." Samandriel said.

"I know you're all concerned," Castiel said, clearly sensing the uneasiness in the room. Dean had only just arrived on the scene, and he was very, very concerned. "We mustn't let this negative news dishearten us. We made significant progress on the Waiting Room, and we've had many successful raids on Heaven. It is important that the troops also feel encouraged and don't lose faith."

"You forget those raids were on the outskirts of Heaven, the least guarded sections because they are unimportant." Balthazar said. "Although, those were some of my finest battle plans, if I do say so myself."

"Well, your 'finest battle plans' have been getting our soldiers slaughtered." Gadreel said. "Perhaps if we had a different admiral, we'd be able to attack the more crucial areas and less angels would die."

"I'm the best strategist on this forsaken planet!" Balthazar said.

"This is a waste of time." Hannah said. "We need to be focusing more on finding new territory in Heaven for the souls to reside in. The safehouse is no longer suitable."

"What territory, Hannah?" Samandriel asked. "All of Heaven is occupied! That's the problem."

"Do not talk down to me, Samandriel." Hannah said, very coldly. "I know Heaven's condition, but we were able to find the current safehouse, perhaps we'd be able to find another unoccupied area?"

"It'd be more practical to invade Hell than waste troops searching for an unused area that's out of Heaven's radar." Balthazar said.

"Well, I don't see you contributing anything positive." Hannah said.

"If you'd all shut your traps for a moment…" Dean said. The angels fell silent, and turned to glare intensely at Dean.

"It seems the human has something to say?" Balthazar said. Dean scowled.

"Balthazar." Castiel warned.

"Yes. The human thinks you could attack the weaker areas of Heaven, and instead of using the area for strategic bases, use it for humans or souls or ghosts or whatever you want to call us." Dean said, and spit the last word.

The angels were all quiet, processing what Dean suggested. The lines of worry on Castiel's forehead disappeared.

"That could work." Castiel said. The other angels didn't want to admit it, but they agreed. "The administrative areas aren't used for souls, and have much extraneous space. Gadreel, organize the soldiers for an attack. Balthazar, start making up attack plans. Hannah, begin mobilizing a portion of the souls. Samandriel, find out which administrative area would be the most practical to capture."

"Wait, Castiel." Samandriel said. "The administrative areas aren't built to house souls. Perhaps we could reshape them, but it would be complicated. I doubt this human knows of the complexities of Heaven."

"And you're in high school." Dean said, pointing out Samandriel's appearance. "I doubt you're that qualified either."

Samandriel looked at himself.

"You're referring to my vessel's age? It is rather young, but it was the only one I could find quickly after we were exiled. It is useful for my work however." Samandriel explained.

"Whoa sorry, vessel?" Dean asked, suddenly very confused. The angels looked accusingly at Castiel.

"You didn't explain vessels to him?" Hannah asked.

"I was going to…" Castiel said. He sighed and began, "When the angels first declared sides, in order to avoid being massacred we escaped to Earth. However, we needed human vessels."

"You're possessing humans?!" Dean asked.

"It's not possessing as you know it, not like demons or ghosts." Castiel said. "We require permission to use a vessel from the vessel itself."

"You're controlling someone else's body? Putting them in danger? Taking them away from their families?" Dean asked. "I don't know, sounds a lot like possession to me."

"Ugh." Balthazar complained. "Humans are always so dramatic. Get over yourselves. We're borrowing a few human shells so we can save millions. And unlike demons, we take good care of our vessels."

Dean rolled his eyes. These angels were just as bad as those in Heaven. Stubborn, cold, and heartless. He was ready to remind them about the angel he recently saw violently gutted, and how he wouldn't call that taking good care of a vessel, but he caught sight of a small hole in the wall that he hadn't noticed before. A ray of sun fell through it; the only natural light in the room. Abruptly, there was a soft patter and the light was cut off. Dean furrowed his brows.

"How close is Heaven from finding the location of this base?" Dean asked.

"Huh?" Samandriel asked. "Not for a while, but they have been making progress. Why?"

"I-", Dean's sentence was cut off when he was knocked backwards by a blast from the wall. The impact took his breath away, and the explosion made his ears ring. Something heavy sat on his chest. Dean was having a horrible Déjà vu.

With difficulty, he opened his eyes. He could see a blurry image of someone sitting over him, shielding him from the debris. As his vision focused, he could see it was Castiel.

Castiel said something to Dean that he couldn't hear because his ears were still ringing. Then Castiel whipped his head around to look at his sword which had been left on the other side of the room. They were both defenseless. Suddenly he was torn away from Dean and thrown to the ground.

A figure towered over Dean. His hearing started to return to him and he was fuzzily able to understand what the figure was saying.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my lucky day." The figure said, and Dean realized with a shock that it was Uriel. Dean spit at his feet in disgust.

"Uriel." He said, viciously.

"61911011034567." Uriel answered.

More angels flooded into the room from the gaping hole in the wall. Dean could see Samandriel was unconscious and Hannah was trapped under some rubble. Gadreel and Balthazar were nowhere to be seen. Hannah had unsheathed her sword, but it was clear she was no match for all the angels by herself and with her leg trapped under rubble.

Uriel nodded to one of the angels who promptly grabbed Castiel by the hair and held a sword to his neck. Dean rushed towards Castiel, but Uriel grabbed him by the shoulder and punched him in the face. He fell to the ground and little spurts of blood from his nose splattered the floor with a painting of red then kicked him in the gut and laughed as he croaked for air like a fish stranded on land.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." He said happily.

Dean turned to get up and Uriel shoved his foot into his chest, pinning him to the floor.

"You certainly are persistent. We'll take care of that once we get you back to Heaven." Uriel said. Dean struggled underneath his foot, but he just pressed down harder.

"Castiel, you have been sentenced by the Archangel and Ruler of Heaven, Michael, to death for your crimes of high treason against Heaven and illegal possession of souls. Do you have anything to say for yourself before I carry out this sentence?" Uriel asked. It was clear nothing Castiel could say would change his mind.

Dean and Castiel locked eyes. They stared intensely at each other. He had just lost his brother, and now he was going to lose his only friend. The one who saved him from Heaven.

Castiel returned his gaze with one of anguish and regret. Regret because it had all gone so wrong. Regret because he couldn't save Heaven. Regret he couldn't even save one human.

"Silence?" Uriel asked. "Typical Castiel. Arrogant right to the end. Don't worry, I'll tell all of Heaven how you begged for mercy, and screamed in fear."

Uriel raised his sword, leering with satisfaction.

"No! Cas!" Dean yelled. He grabbed a piece of loose rubble and slammed it into Uriel's shin. He heard a crack and Uriel screeched in agony. The sword clattered to the ground. Dean reached for it, when a body stepped in front of him. He looked up to see a familiar face.

"Sorry to break up the party, but it was getting boring." Balthazar said. His hand was covered in blood. Dean was confused, until he caught sight of the strange symbol drawn on the wall in blood. It looked to be Enochian. Balthazar pressed his hand to the symbol.

A bright light exploded from the symbol. Everyone instinctively shielded their eyes. Dean reached out for Castiel, who reached back, but the light seemed to pull him away. It looked as though it was tearing the very fibers of his being away from Dean. Their fingers brushed momentarily before Castiel disappeared from the room.

"Cas!" Dean cried. He glanced around and realized that all the other angels had also disappeared.

"Don't worry, Deanie."

Except for Balthazar…

"Castiel will be fine." Balthazar said. He cleaned the blood off his hand. "This is all according to plan. We have a meeting place in case something such as this were to occur."

"You just blew them away?" Dean asked.

"Yep. Enochian is good for something." Balthazar said, pointing to the symbol on the wall. "They've all been repelled momentarily. Who knows where they've ended up? But they'll be back. And I can guarantee that we do not want to be here when that happens."

"And all the angels in the infirmary?" Dean asked.

"They've also been expelled. We'll work on finding them after we regroup." Balthazar said. "I'm sure they'll be fine. For the most part."

"For the most part?!" Dean said. Balthazar dismissed him with his hand.

"Calm down." He said. "Or I will leave you here."

Dean couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but he decided it'd be better to just suck it up and find Castiel. After that, they could regroup and then strike back at Heaven.

"You coming?" Balthazar asked, offering Dean his hand. Dean scowled and put his hand on Balthazar's shoulder.

"What? We're not far along enough in our relationship for hand-holding?" Balthazar asked. Dean ignored him.

"Where is the meetup spot?" Dean asked. Balthazar just laughed, and they were gone.

It took Dean a moment to understand where he was. That is, until he recognized the familiar logo on the walls.

"A McDonald's?" He asked. Balthazar nodded and sat down at the nearest booth.

"Castiel's idea. Something about strategic point, and hard for Heaven to pinpoint, blahblahblah. I honestly think he just likes the burgers." Balthazar said.

While Dean usually found fastfood burgers cheap, dry, and overall disgusting, he hadn't a burger for months and he wanted nothing more than to bite into a greasy bun. Especially after the day he'd been having. He walked towards the counter to order twelve of the biggest burgers, but the employee didn't notice him. Even when he furiously waved his hand in front of his face and yelled, he got no reaction.

"You're a ghost." Balthazar explained from the booth with a yawn. "No one can see you. Not unless you make yourself visible, but you're not capable of that."

Dean sat down next to Balthazar, and stared in shock at the table. He'll never have a burger again. And no more steaks. And no more pie. He gripped the table and vented his frustration. Balthazar was sitting lackadaisically across from him. He smiled sympathetically at him.

"The burgers here aren't even that good." He said. "Not that I actually eat human food."

"Ha." Dean said, loosening a bit. "You angels wouldn't know good food if it was served to you on plates of gold from God himself."

Balthazar laughed, but Dean sensed a tightness behind it. He couldn't detect what was the cause of the sudden change in Balthazar's mood.

Then he jumped in surprise when Hannah appeared next to him. She had a cut on her arm that she'd put a tourniquet on. The blood had already soaked her bandages. Balthazar went to heal her wounds. It wasn't much, but it stopped the bleeding.

"One of Heaven's angels landed with me." Hannah explained.

"Castiel isn't here yet?" She asked. Dean and Balthazar shook their heads. She looked away.

"That was too close." She said.

"You're lucky I was there." Balthazar said. Hannah ignored him.

"How could they have found our base?" She asked. "We were well hidden, and Samandriel should have heard if they had knowledge of our whereabouts."

"Samandriel did say that they're getting more uptight." Balthazar pointed out.

"More uptight than usual?" Dean said.

"Perhaps…" Hannah said. She was clearly thinking intensely about something. "But they knew what room to attack. How did they know what part of our base we'd be meeting in?"

"You think there's a spy?" Dean asked. Hannah and Balthazar were both quiet as the idea hung over them. Hannah gave Dean an icy look.

"I think it's a possibility." Hannah said.

Then Gadreel stumbled into the fast food restaurant. He was unharmed, but very angry.

"Balthazar, that was not the plan!" He yelled.

Balthazar feigned offense.

"The plan?" He asked. "Forgive me, I thought the plan was to save ourselves from slow painful executions for treason by Heaven."

"Your plan was reckless!" Gadreel said. "All those injured angels are now defenseless!"

"We couldn't have protected them anyway." Balthazar countered. "My plan saved Castiel from Uriel."

"Castiel had everything under control." Gadreel said, putting his face in Balthazar's

"You may not have noticed, but he was about to lose his head." Balthazar said, not backing down.

"Would you two shut it?!" Dean said, noticing the waitress kept glancing worriedly at them.

"Let's just keep it together until Castiel shows up." Dean said.

"If." Balthazar corrected.

"If." Dean said.

The silence hung heavy among them, until Hannah asked, "Has anyone had contact with Samandriel?"

Everyone just shook their heads.

"If Castiel didn't...If he doesn't come." Hannah began.

"It's only been a few minutes. Just give him time." Dean said, but he was biting his lip.

They all looked up in anticipation when they heard the flap of wings. Dean didn't want to get his hopes up, and they all braced themselves for the possibility that it was one of Heaven's angels. Then Dean's heart leapt with joy. Relief flowed through his hands and legs as he rushed to Castiel. He was struggling to hold Samandriel up, and was limping slightly.

"Hey, are you alright?" Dean asked with concern.

"Yes." Castiel said between breaths. "Take Samandriel."

Dean reached for Samandriel, but he couldn't get a grip on him. Hannah and Gadreel took Samandriel while Balthazar helped Castiel to the table.

"As a ghost, you don't have an earthly being to touch physical objects." Castiel explained. "That's completely different in Heaven though because you don't need physical form there."

"That's just peachy." Dean said. "So then why could Uriel touch me here on earth?"

"As angels, we have both a physical form (our vessel) and an ethereal form. If we want to have contact with you, we can. If not, you won't be able to touch us." Castiel said.

"And it just gets better." Dean moaned. "Anything else?"

"No. That's about it." Castiel said.

"Castiel, what happened to you and Samandriel?" Hannah asked. "Is he alright?"

"We ran into obstacles. One of Heaven's angels. But he should be fine."

Dean noticed Castiel quickly glance down at the blood on his hands, then look away. Gadreel inspected Samandriel's wounds. He placed his hands to his head and shut his eyes in concentration. A moment later, Samandriel's eyes slowly opened.

It was then Dean noticed the waitress had gotten the manager. Dean poked Castiel and nodded his head towards them. Castiel slowly nodded back.

"Time to go." He said. "Samandriel, can you walk?"

Samandriel nodded, and they all got up.

"But Castiel, where can we go?" Hannah asked.

"Base 16 should suffice." Castiel said.

"Heaven might be following us though." Samandriel said through gritted teeth. "Its not safe to go to one of our hideouts yet."

"I know where we can go." Dean said. The angels all looked apprehensively at Castiel, who just nodded at Dean.

"Wait, Castiel." Hannah said. "I don't know if we can trust this human."

"This human is standing right here." Dean said.

"We can trust Dean." Castiel said. Hannah frowned, and glanced at Dean.

"I don't know about that Castiel. The moment he showed up, Heaven attacked our base!" Hannah cried.

"You think I'm a spy for those douchebags with wings?!" Dean said.

"That attack was too precise to have been accomplished without inside knowledge." Hannah said. "Castiel, did you forget that he's-"

"Hannah." Castiel said, warningly. "I trust Dean, so you can trust him too."

Hannah set her jaw and looked away.

"Very well." She said.

Castiel turned towards Dean.

"Where is this safe house?" Castiel asked.

"It's actually more of a garage." Dean said. The angels all gave Castiel sideways glances.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Bobby!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope people have been enjoying this so far. Thanks to everyone whose left comments, kudos, or subscribed. I really appreciate the interest. Happy 4th of July weekend!

"This isn't a garage, it's a dump." Balthazar said, frowning in disgust as he inspected his surroundings. The other angels had matching looks of displeasure.

"Hey! You don't like it, you can go back to that crappy fast food restaurant and face Heaven. Alone." Dean said.

"Fair enough." Balthazar said.

Dean lead the way, as the angels followed behind him. For once, he had a bounce to his step and it almost felt as if he was alive again. Almost.

"Just a warning, Bobby can be a little...forward when you first meet him." Dean explained. "So be prepared."

Just as they reached the front door, it swung open and a rifle was pointed directly at Dean's face.

"Bobby!" He said, seeing the familiar face past the gun. There was no response.

"Dean, you're a ghost. He can't see or hear you." Castiel reminded him. Dean's spirit sank.

"What did you say?!" Bobby asked, pointing the gun down at Castiel. "Who are ya'll and what'dya want?"

"I'm Castiel, angel of the Lord." Castiel said. Bobby laughed.

"Nice try, but angel's ain't real." He said. Dean shook his head.

"Tell Bobby that you're with me." Dean said. "Tell him that I'm alright but that I'm a ghost."

"Bobby, this may be hard for you to comprehend-" Castiel began, but Bobby cut him off.

"How did you know my name?" He asked.

"Dean told me." Castiel explained. Bobby was silent. He looked away from Castiel to the other angels, then glared down at Castiel.

"I don't know who you are, or what you want, but you have ten seconds to get off my property." Bobby said.

"I knew this wouldn't work." Gadreel said.

"Bobby! Bobby!" Dean cried. He tried to touch Bobby. "Bobby! It's Dean."

There was no response from Bobby. He started to count down from ten. Dean felt the frustration building up, getting ready to explode. He came all the way from Heaven, and he had already lost Sam, he wouldn't give up on Bobby.

"Bobby, put the damn rifle away!" Dean cried, venting his anger. Bobby froze, and looked around wildly.

"Dean?" He asked quietly.

"Yes! Bobby, it's me." Dean said, but Bobby couldn't hear him. Bobby looked back to Castiel.

"What did you say about Dean?" He asked. Castiel's eyebrows scrunched together in pity.

"Dean is here, but he's a ghost." Castiel said. "It's all very complicated, but we need refuge from Heaven and Dean suggested we come here."

Dean, if you're really here," Bobby asked. "Where did I take you and Sam when your father was on a case and it was your ninth birthday?"

"Chuck E Cheese's." Dean said with a smile. "And Sam puked in the ball pit after eating two pizza pies by myself."

The angels all looked very lost. Castiel answered Bobby.

"My god." Bobby looked ready to faint, but then regained his composure. "Dean, you stupid boy! What the hell are you doing down here? You're supposed to be up in Heaven being pampered by cherubs."

"Yeah, well babies in diapers isn't too far from the truth." Dean said. The angels scowled at him. "If you spent three months in the Waiting Room, you'd say the same thing."

"There are currently some problems in Heaven." Castiel said.

"Well, ya'll better explain inside." Bobby said. "Although, I've never met angels before. Ya'll want anything to eat or drink?"

They all shook their heads. Bobby led them into the house, with Dean walking right beside him. He was about to ask Bobby for a cold beer, when he remembered he couldn't touch anything in the physical realm.

"Heaven is currently in a civil war because we've run out of space for souls." Castiel said. "Heaven plans on leaving the souls in the Waiting Room forever. We refused to accept that, so we were exiled on threat of death."

"Hold up. What's a waiting room?" Bobby asked.

"The Waiting Room." Castiel corrected. "It's a waystation between death and salvation."

"And the chairs are uncomfortable." Dean said. He had a pained look on his face just remembering. "And there aren't even any magazines to read."

"Yes Dean," Castiel agreed. "Precisely why we must free the souls and deliver them, if not to Heaven, at least somewhere other than the Waiting Room."

"So it's like Purgatory." Bobby said.

"No," Castiel said. Dean noticed his face grew darker. "Purgatory is a myth. We've been fighting to free souls and find a solution but…"

"Let me guess, you aren't doing too hot, and now you need somewhere to hide from Heaven." Bobby said. Castiel nodded.

"And clearly Dean has been helping ya'll, and suggested you come here?" Bobby asked. Castiel nodded again. Bobby shrugged.

"Well, friends of Dean's are friends of mine." Bobby said.

"I knew I could count on you, Bobby." Dean said.

"Dean says, he knew he could count on you." Castiel repeated, so Bobby could hear.

"I would hope so after all those other times I've saved his sorry ass." Bobby said. "So, what's the plan?"

"Plan?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah," Bobby said. "You idjits gotta have some sort of plan!"

Castiel knit his eyebrows together and considered it.

"I suppose we'll need to Heaven proof this house, wait until things have died down, and then return to our base to help the wounded angels that were left defenseless." He said.

Samandriel walked into the room just in time to hear the end of Castiel's statement.

"That may be harder than we expected." Samandriel said. "My contact just finished updating me on Heaven's plans. They are really serious this time. They've sent assassins to find us. They've also surrounded the base and moved the angels to a prison in Heaven, including the wounded.

"We could still go to-" Hannah began, but Dean cut her off.

"Whoa, whoa. Go somewhere? What about the wounded angels?" He asked.

"They've been captured by Heaven. If they're in a prison then that means they're in the heavily guarded sections." Hannah said. "There's no saving them."

"That's horsecrap." Bobby said.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "I knew angels were dicks, but that's just heartless."

"Heartless?" Hannah asked, angrily. "They knew what they were doing. Their sacrifices have saved countless souls."

"That doesn't mean you leave them for dead." Dean said.

"What would you have us do?" Gadreel asked.

"Kick Heaven's ass and get them back." Dean said.

"We don't have the troops for that." Gadreel said.

Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder. They locked eyes, and Dean could read a thousands words from his gaze. It was a hopeless mission. He was sorry, but they had to move on. Find more recruits. A necessary sacrifice in war.

Bobby found the whole exchange very disorienting because he could not see Dean, only Castiel staring intensely at empty air.

Finally Dean pulled away from Castiel.

"We don't need troops." Dean said. "If it's heavily guarded, Heaven probably won't be expecting an attack. And they'd assume that if you did attack, it would be large scale because that's what you've been doing in the past."

"In every attack, our forces have been much smaller than Heaven's, but I suppose that strictly speaking, that would still be considered a large scale attack." Gadreel said.

"Then it'd be easier for a small group to sneak in and transport groups of angels at a time." Dean said. The group considered his idea.

"What'd he say?" Bobby asked.

"Dean proposed a small team infiltrate Heaven's prison and free the captives in small groups." Castiel said.

"This is ridiculous." Hannah said. "Heaven would discover them immediately, and even if they didn't, it would take multiple trips to rescue all the angels. That's increased risk that Heaven will find them."

"Actually, Hannah," Gadreel said. "I think it's a good idea. If we send in the more experienced angels, they'd be able to transport quite a few at a time. Better yet, if we provide a distraction raid on the opposite side of Heaven, we could divert some of Heaven's forces."

"Gadreel, I can't believe you're going along with this suicide mission." Hannah said.

"I've had more insane plans that've worked." Dean pointed out.

"Yes, and you died!" Hannah cried. Dean was taken aback. I don't understand why Castiel insists on following your plans or how you even tricked your way into Heaven in the first place. You're plan is going to get us all killed. We were having enough trouble already before you came along. But suddenly, you're here and Heaven's attacking our base and then you suggest we send more angels to die in an effort to save the angels you allowed Heaven to capture."

"Hannah, that's enough!" Castiel said.

"Look, missy. I knew Dean my whole life and he was one of the finest hunter-" Bobby said but Dean put his hand up and a chill fell across the room. Even if he couldn't see him, Bobby felt it and he stopped talking.

"I've spent my life saving people, and even though I'm dead, that's not going to stop me." Dean said. "I'm going to save those angels, you do whatever you want."

And suddenly empty air and heavy silence filled the space where Dean was a moment ago. Hannah stared at the ground with a look of anger and embarrassment. Castiel gazed sadly at where Dean was. Bobby looked around confused.

"Anyone care to fill me in?" He asked. Castiel dropped his eyes.

"Dean's gone," he explained. "But I'm going to go find him. Gadreel, Heaven-proof this house."

Castiel disappeared too. The awkwardness weighed on those left. Balthazar looked around, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm going to go make a martini." He said, and left for the kitchen. Bobby furrowed his brows in anger.

"Do you know how Dean died?" Bobby asked. The angels looked up and shook their heads. "As you'd expect, it was on a hunting trip. Some ghost was haunting this old wooden bridge and the surrounding woods, so Sam and Dean decided to burn down the bridge, as any good hunters should have. But something went wrong, and Sam was on the bridge when it was set on fire. Dean was on the other side, but he ran across the bridge, through the fire, and was barely able to push Sam to the ledge before the ropes snapped. The bridge went hurtling to the ground, 40 feet below, taking Dean with it."

Hannah's eyes had gone wide, and her jaw was tensed.

"That boy lived saving people, and that's how he died." Bobby said. "So don't tell me that you think he's some spy for Heaven that's putting souls and angels in danger. And don't you dare say he doesn't deserve Heaven. Just know that when he says he'll do whatever it takes to save those angels, you better believe he means it."

Balthazar poked his head back into the room.

"Do you have any olives?" He asked. Bobby nodded and started walking towards the kitchen. Then he paused and looked back to the angels.

"And one more word of wisdom," he said. "No one's as stubborn as a Winchester."

With that, Bobby went into the kitchen and left the angels contemplating what he had just said.

It took Dean a moment to realize where he was. The familiar smells of rust and oil filled his nose. He fought the urge to pick up a wrench and feel the grease slime his fingers so that he'd have to spend hours cleaning out of his nails, but he knew that if he tried to touch anything it would phase through his hands. Instead, he forced himself to admire the cars Bobby was currently repairing.

Dean was also baffled by why he had accidentally teleported to the garage. He didn't do it on purpose, but that didn't mean he was ready to go back to the house quite yet.

He jumped when he heard the crunch of gravel. Castiel had appeared behind him.

"Dean." He said. Not angrily, or forcefully, but almost with a hint of...relief?

"Cas." Dean replied, acknowledging his presence. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Castiel gazed around at the garage, and Dean watched him.

"I take it this is a workshop to repair broken transportation vehicles?" Castiel asked. Dean nodded and sat down.

"To fix broken cars?" Dean said. "Yeah."

"I forget sometimes that humans must walk to their destination." Castiel said. "I imagine it must get rather exhausting."

"I'd say the same thing about teleporting." Dean said. "I feel exhausted after moving 20 feet! Not to mention it's impossible to control. I didn't even mean to come here, or go anywhere really."

"Teleportation, especially in ghosts, is either driven by intense anger or calmness. Clearly your emotions were high, so it was easy to teleport." Castiel explained. "I'm sure you've noticed this in your extensive hunting history, but in threatening situations ghosts tend to return to places of comfort."

"At least that makes sense." Dean said. Castiel sat down next to Dean. He was so close that Dean could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing. Dean was surprised to even be able to hear Castiel's heart. Dean knew it couldn't be his own he was hearing. Castiel turned to look at Dean. Dean jumped slightly. He realized he had unintentionally been staring at Castiel for a while, and he felt embarrassed to have been caught.

"Dean, I apologize for Hannah's words." Castiel said, having apparently not noticed Dean's staring. "She cares so deeply for Heaven, but sometimes it can cloud her vision."

Castiel looked away. Dean sensed there was something more. He wondered what emotion was hiding on Castiel's face, what was lurking behind his eyes. But Castiel's head turned back, and his face had changed. He was once again focused on Dean.

"But I sense there is more to this than Hannah." Castiel said. Dean instinctively frowned.

"Thanks, but I don't need anyone psychoanalyzing me." He said. "I've had enough of that all my life, I'd like to not have any in the afterlife."

Dean immediately felt bad for the words leaving his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize. Finally though, the heat in his cheeks got to him. But before he could say anything, he felt Castiel rest his hand on his. If Dean had been breathing, he would have stopped then. Cas's hand was warm, lightly callused from battle, and a little sweaty. Dean was sure his was too, and he was nervous that Cas could feel Dean's hand shaking. Dean bit his lip.

"Cas, I'm sorry." He whispered.

"Don't be," Castiel said. And just for a second, Dean could have sworn he felt his heart beat. It was impossible, but he had definitely felt something. He remembered the first time he'd met Cas. His heart had jumped then too.

For a long moment, Dean looked at Castiel, who was gazing at the night sky through the open garage door. Dean followed his gaze. They stared at the scattered stars that seemed to wink at them every now and again. Dean realized it had been three months since he had seen the night sky, and he took in the view. All thoughts of Heaven, Hell, and everything in between disappeared. Dean didn't even notice when his hand stopped shaking.

When Dean and Castiel returned to the house, the other angels had scattered. Balthazar was on his fifth martini, Samandriel was watching cartoons while Gadreel pressured him to change the channel. Hannah was nowhere in sight.

"Where has Hannah gone?" Castiel asked. The other angels shrugged.

"Something about stretching her wings." Gadreel said. Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Give me a moment." He said, and disappeared.

Dean stood in place for a moment. He wasn't in the mood for angel bonding time, so instead he went to look for Bobby. In classic Bobby fashion, Bobby found him first.

"Alright Dean!" He yelled through the house, even though Dean was standing right in front of him. "You've been gone three months and we still haven't had a conversation yet, so get over here."

The box in Bobby's hands made Dean apprehensive. He grimaced.

"Oh Bobby, please tell me that's not what I think it is." He said.

"Dean, if you're here…" Bobby said to the air next to Dean. "I know what you're thinking, but we are gonna talk one way or the other. So you can either sit down or I'm going to go get one of those angels to be a translator. Your decision."

He had no choice. Dean moaned and sat down in front of the Ouija Board. Not that it would actually work though. Those things are notorious for being hoaxes. Bobby put his fingers on the upside down shot glass. Dean rolled his eyes and did the same.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." He muttered.

"Dean, are you here?" Bobby asked. Dean was shocked to discover his fingers didn't phase through the glass. In his excitement, he almost forgot to move the glass to the word yes. When he did, Bobby smiled. Then he sniffed the air and frowned.

"Do you smell smoke?" He asked. Dean sniffed the air, but smelled nothing. They both glanced around the room, but saw nothing burning. Then Dean came to the realization that it must be him. Ghosts oftentimes carried aromas with them, usually something significant to their life, or in Dean's case, death. Bobby came to the same conclusion, and decided it would be best to let the issue pass.

"So, tell me, how's the afterlife?" Bobby asked, changing the conversation. Dean moved the shot glass across the board to the letters to spell out B-O-R-I-N-G. He paused, and then added, A-N-D S-O-B-E-R.

"That must be hard for you." Bobby pointed out. Then he was silent, clearly weighing what he was about to say. "Sam survived. Have you gone to see him yet?"

The shotglass felt ten pounds heavier, and it took all the force in Dean's fingers to push it to Yes. Bobby smiled weakly. Dean was glad Bobby couldn't see his face. Bobby seemed to wait for Dean to elaborate, but nothing happened.

"So? How is he? Last I heard Stanford was going well." Bobby said. The shotglass didn't move. "Is he coming up to help ya'll?"

Dean didn't know what was heavier, the shotglass or his heart. He pushed the glass to the word No and saw Bobby's face immediately fall. His breath changed drastically.

"Probably for the best." Bobby said. "That boy doesn't deserve to throw his dreams away twice."

Another thought popped into Dean's head. A-N-Y G-O-O-D C-A-S-E-S?

Bobby raised his eyebrow and thought for a moment.

"There was this one case where some priest's ghost was possessing people. For a while, I-uh," Bobby laughed, but there was a hint of sadness below the surface. "I thought it might have been an angel. I was wrong, but look at us now. Angels are real and drinking all my gin."

I W-O-U-L-D K-I-L-L F-O-R A B-E, Dean began to spell out but then changed his mind, W-H-I-S-K-E-Y.

"I could give you that easily, if you could drink it." Bobby said. "What exactly are the limitations of being a ghost? That is what you are, right?"

H-E-L-L I-F I K-N-O-W, the letters spelled out. Then Balthazar appeared in the doorway.

"You've been summoned for a battle plan meeting." He said. He raised his empty glass.

"Do I look like a butler to you?" Bobby said, angrily. He started to pick up the ouija board, and spoke to the air.

"You better go if you intend on keeping your word." Bobby said. Dean reluctantly left Bobby, and followed Balthazar.

All the angels had assembled in a disorganized circle. Gadreel had the tv remote in his hand, which Samandriel was clearly bothered by. Castiel was standing, and it was evident that he had been addressing the angels before Dean and Balthazar had walked in. Castiel paused and motioned towards the couch. Balthazar gave Dean a smirk as they sat down next to each other. Dean crossed his arms. Besides Castiel, Hannah was the only one standing. She refused to meet anyone's eyes, except for Castiel's. All her attention was given to him.

"As I was saying," Castiel said, continuing his breakdown, "if Samandriel's spies have the correct information, we can assume that Heaven is keeping the wounded angels in the Prison District, probably Sector 4."

He pointed towards a map that one of the angels had drawn on the wall in sharpie. Dean didn't want to be there when Bobby saw that mess on his wall.

"As you're aware, Sector 4 is one of the most heavily guarded areas in Heaven, next to only Sector 6 and 13." Castiel explained.

"What's in those Sectors?" Dean asked. All the angels tensed, and looked at Castiel. His eyes bulged in shock or fear, Dean wasn't sure.

"We don't actually, um…" Samandriel mumbled. "We don't actually know what's there."

Dean raised his eyebrow quizzically.

"I'm sorry?" He asked.

"No one knows what's there." Samandriel explained. "Not even the highest ranked in Heaven's army. Or if they do they're not telling. Anybody."

"We should stay focused." Castiel said. Dean sensed that he was trying to change the subject. What could possibly be so horrible and mysterious that it could make angels squirm at just the mention of it?"

"Because Sector 4 is so heavily guarded, we'll have to be extra thorough in our preparation. Samandriel, is this the correct layout of the Sector?" Castiel asked, and pointed some sharpie squiggles on the wall. Samandriel nodded.

"In that case, I want all the guard shifts, who, when, where, what time they switch, what weapons they have. Gadreel and Hannah, I need a special forces squadron. Our best angels, our best weapons."

"Castiel," Gadreel said, "you do know that there's a high risk that those angels won't come back. Do we really want to put our best angels out there?"

"Gadreel," Castiel said, "Right now what the rebellion needs is hope. They need to know that we won't abandon them and that Heaven is not invincible."

"Very well." Gadreel said, nodding solemnly.

"And Dean," Castiel said as Dean looked up, "I want you to examine these blueprints and tell me your battle plan."

"Those are your blueprints?" Dean asked. "It looks like a blind three-year old drew them."

"Hey!" Samandriel said. "I was still recovering from fighting Heaven."

"Yes," Castiel said, "they may not be the most fully-rendered depictions of Heaven's layout, but they will tell you what you need to know."

"What about me, your royal generaliness?" Balthazar asked. A small smile tugged at Castiel's face.

"I need you to make the finest distraction Heaven has even seen." Castiel said. "And I need it to risk as few of our soldiers as possible."

"Aye Aye captain." Balthazar said, and gave a little salute.

"Castiel…" Hannah said. "What will you be doing?"

"Bringing the plan together," he said. After a pause, he added, "and searching…"

"For God?" Dean asked, half-jokingly. Castiel nodded solemnly. Dean was shocked at the lack of protest from the angels over Castiel wasting time on such a pointless mission. They opposed every other order, but now they just stared wistfully at Castiel. Dean frowned. They could get their hopes up, but he wasn't going to.

"So, we might as well get planning," Dean said. "No time to lose."

"And in the meantime, I want you all to regain your health. We're going to attack as soon as possible." Castiel said.

With that, everyone dispersed once more. Before Dean could get a word in, Castiel was gone to the wind. Dean frowned. Not that he was sad Castiel was gone, just a little disappointed. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and instead tried to decipher the sharpie blueprints.

"Balls!" He heard a voice behind him. "Those damn angels."

Dean couldn't help but laugh a little.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam's heart pounded against his chest as his hands clutched the sheets with such force that they turned red. He screamed into the darkness. Slowly his heart calmed and his eyes adjusted as he remembered he was in his dorm room. Once his hands were calm enough that he could let go of the blankets, he got up. He wouldn't be able to sleep anymore.

Sam hadn't had a nightmare like that for weeks. He had been foolish enough to think they were finally over, but that one was the worst yet. Sam brushed a drop of sweat from his forehead and tried to forget the horrifying images of his brother.

Of course Dean's death haunted Sam, and still scratched at his sanity every now and again, but this time was different. This wasn't Dean's death, it was worse. Sam could barely even believe what he had seen in his dream was his brother. Just remembering those cold eyes staring out from where Dean's warm green eyes should have been made Sam shiver.

There were a million questions flooding Sam's thoughts. Worst of all, there was an overpowering sense that this dream meant something. Sam prayed that he wouldn't have to find out what.

By about the third day, Dean decided he needed a break. He'd been toiling over those stupid blueprints, trying to think of ways to outwit Heaven. It wasn't as easy as he'd been expecting. The place was air tight.

The tensions had also been riding high, well, higher than usual. It seemed Bobby's house got hotter and stuffier every day, like dialing up the heat on an oven. Dean couldn't actually feel any difference, he guessed that was a side effect of being a ghost, but everyone else definitely did. Between the heat and the close living spaces, Dean knew it was only a matter of time before someone snapped, and he didn't particularly want to die a second time.

Dean left the confines of the house behind, and wandered freely through the maze of rusty cars. Even though he couldn't feel the cool wind on his neck or the sun warming his back, he felt weirdly optimistic. The quiet of the junkyard also gave Dean time to think, and there was something, or rather someone, that was consuming his thoughts.

In the time which felt like an eternity he had spent in Heaven, Dean had met numerous angels. He didn't like any of them, but he could understand all of them. But Castiel, that angel had Dean spinning in circles of confusion. Not only did he rescue Dean from the Hell that was Heaven's Waiting Room, but he was rebelling against all of Heaven for the sake of humanity. Dean could never imagine an angel doing that, let alone helping him do it. Stranger still, Cas showed emotion. Compassion, Patience. Love.

Then Dean spotted what he'd been looking for and his train of thought changed. He hoped it would work. He climbed into the old car, and was glad to find the keys still in the ignition. He urged on the car as he tried to turn it on.

"Son of a bitch," he said happily as the engine purred to life. It sounded clunky and definitely not ready to drive, but that wasn't important. All that mattered to Dean was that the radio was still working.

Sure enough, the music pushed through the cobwebs that had been suffocating the speakers. It was even tuned to the classic rock station. A smile spread across Dean's face as he leaned back in the driver's seat and let the familiar sounds fill the car.

"Who is the Wayward Son?" a voice asked from the passenger's seat. Dean instinctively punched the figure which had appeared next to him. Luckily Cas let Dean's hand phase through his face.

"Cas?!" Dean asked.

"I didn't mean to surprise you." Cas said.

"It's fine," Dean said, "but maybe next time give me a little warning?"

Castiel nodded.

"I always found humanity's creation of music to be so fascinating." Castiel said.

"Somehow, you've managed to express emotion and conflict and love through little more

than banging two sticks together."

"Do angels not have music?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head thoughtfully.

"The other angels don't have time for one of humanity's simple creations, as they describe it." Castiel said with a melancholy sigh, "I believe that it's truly a language that only humans can understand."

"You seem to have a pretty good appreciation of it." Dean said. Castiel looked at Dean, who was struck by the sad deepness of Cas's blue eyes. Not that they were hollow, but the opposite. They were overflowing with waves of cobalt, that made Dean feel like he was drowning.

"While I can appreciate it from the outside," Castiel said, "I'll never be able to see it through your eyes."

Dean barely heard Cas's last sentence because he had trailed off. They were both so lost in each other's eyes that they barely noticed the radio had died. The mention of eyes pulled Dean back from Cas's. The space between them now felt infinite.

"So, how's the hunt for God going?" Dean asked, desperate to break the silence building up between them. And for the first time since he'd appeared, Cas looked away from Dean.

"Not well," he admitted. "I've run out of places to search."

"Did you ever think maybe God doesn't want to be found?" Dean asked, and immediately regretted it. He had wanted to soothe the worry lines that had etched themselves into Cas's forehead, not deepen them.

"It has occurred to me." Castiel said quietly.

A pain stabbed Dean's heart. It took him a moment to remember what exactly it was, and delve through his memories that had begun to blur. Then he found it. The same pain that lingered over him whenever Sam stubbed his toe, whenever his father cried alone in the impala over the picture of his mother, and he even found traces of it mingled in his last moments. The feeling sparked something, and Dean felt something come back to life.

Dean took Cas's hand, and the heat from it nearly burnt him. But he held on.

"If he is out there, we'll find him." Dean said. "And I will personally drag his sorry ass back to Heaven for you."

Cas smiled and tilted his head at Dean. Dean noticed and raised his eyebrow quizzically.

"Dean...your soul." Cas began to explain but trailed off.

"Cas, I-" Dean said, picking up where Cas left off. "I feel alive. More than I have in a long time."

"Since you've been dead?" Cas asked softly. His hand tightened a little more around Dean's. Dean's face softened in response.

"Since before that." He confessed. As they stared into each other's eyes, Dean noticed Cas tilt his head and scrunch his eyebrows together. It made Dean smile.

"It just occurred to me." Cas said, "How were you able to play the music and not phase through the car?"

Dean frowned in confusion, as the substance of the car dissipated. He was sent sprawling to the ground. Small puffs of dust floated through the air. Cas helped him up.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"I've got some dirt in my mouth, but besides that, yeah, I'm fine." Dean said.

"I must say," Cas said "it was very impressive that you were focused enough to hold on for that long."

"It would be nice if I could be focused enough to have control over it all the time." Dean said. Cas took his hand again.

"You've been through so much, and you're the strongest human I've met." Cas said. "It's all about calm and focus. You'll learn to control it. And I could help you, if you want."

"Wow, that's...that'd be cool, not that you have to do anything you don't want to but, um, sure...thanks," Dean said, suddenly fumbling over his words, "we better head back to the house before Bobby and the angels kill each other."

Cas smiled.

"I don't know if I honestly want to get in the middle of that." He said.

As they walked back to the house, the sun warmed Dean. He couldn't help but smile a bit. He couldn't pinpoint what he was feeling. Whatever it was, he was happy when he was with Cas, and he was happy with himself. It was new and unexpected, but Dean realized he didn't want it to end.

The next day Dean was mulling over the blueprints, again. He kept feeling like he was missing that last piece to the puzzle and he wouldn't be able to see the big picture until he'd found it. Shouldn't there be more guards? What if the backup escape plan goes wrong? And if they've moved the angels?

So much could go wrong. Everyone else knew this too, but no one was acknowledging it. The angels just stuck with their usual routines to organize the mission, suffocating their fears with business. Dean couldn't be that lucky because he'd already completed his job. Bobby was busy supporting other hunters and keeping the angels from trampling his house. Cas was also absent. He'd left in the early morning after he'd made sure to ward himself so Heaven couldn't track him.

In some ways, being on Earth was just as boring as in Heaven. Dead is Dead. He groaned, but nobody heard him. Dean rolled over on the couch. His eyes zeroed in on an opened beer bottle sitting on the coffee table. There was still some left and the shine of water on the bottle reminded Dean just how dry his mouth felt. What he wouldn't do to be able to drink it.

Dean stood up and focused all his energy on the bottle. What was it Cas had said? Calm and focus. Easy. He grabbed for the bottle, but its form vaporized as his hand passed through it. He pulled his hand back and frowned.

"Calm and focus." Dean said to himself. "You can do this. You're a Winchester for God's sake."

He anchored his feet to the ground and bent his knees slightly. He took a deep breath in and out, then darted his hands out to seize the bottle. Again, the bottle dissipated into the air and Dean's hands ended up awkwardly clapping together as it disappeared. He scowled but tried again. And again. And again. With each failure, his frustration piled up on itself.

"Who wants a half-drunken warm beer anyway?" he muttered finally.

Dean swatted at the beer, only to have his hand phase through once more. He spun around and was caught off guard because Bobby was standing at the edge of the room. Dean was going to keep walking, but he realized Bobby was staring directly at him. His face was contorted into a look of alarm and revulsion. Dean didn't know what was upsetting him so much. He took a step forward, but Bobby retreated back.

"Bobby?" Dean asked. Bobby's eyes widened and a sullen look came across his face. He turned away from Dean, and steadied himself against the wall as if he was getting ready to lose his lunch. Dean was bewildered.

"Dean, is that really you?" Bobby asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Dean asked, trying to keep his tone lighthearted. Bobby didn't respond. When he looked back up, his eyes darted around the room quizzically but he couldn't find Dean even though he hadn't moved an inch. He took a step back into the room.

"Dean? Are you still here?" Bobby asked, "I'm sorry about that, you just...surprised me."

"What did you see?" Dean asked darkly, but received no reaction from Bobby.

"What did you see?" Dean repeated more viciously. Bobby's eye twitched and he looked around again.

"Boy, you're not going to like this, but you asked," he said. "You look like an overdone chicken-kebab. Your skin's been blistered off and well...it's not too pretty."

Dean's ire lessened. He looked down at his hands. True, they were callused from years welding a hunting knife, but they were far from scorched. He supposed that he'd accidentally materialized, and Bobby saw him as he looked when he'd died.

It was clear Bobby was shaken up, even if he was trying to conceal it. Bobby had seen decades of gruesome crime scenes and all forms of revolting monsters. Enough to make the grim reaper himself shudder. It took a lot to upset him.

"I'm going to go check on the angels," Bobby said, walking out.

"Wait, I'm sorry," Dean said, reaching for Bobby's shoulder. His hand passed right through. His green eyes were wide as they followed Bobby out of the he was out of sight, his face fell. His grim thoughts stitched themselves into the corners of his mouth, and tightened his lips into a grimace. His jaw tensed in response. A shadow fell across his face as his eyes looked away.

Dean shook the darkness away, and tried to regain his humor. His ire caused this mess in the first place, and it would be foolish to allow it to fester again. He didn't want to cause anyone else pain. Dean strode past the coffee table and the bottle, and sat on the porch outside.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but he was still sitting there patiently when Cas returned.

"Hello, Dean," Cas smiled. "I hope you have not been waiting for me the entire day."

"Please," Dean said. "Do I look like a dog to you?"

"Of course not. You look like a human," Cas said straight-faced. "I did not mean to imply that you had canine features."

"Well, that's good news...I guess?" Dean said, walking along Cas into the house.

"How was your day?" Castiel asked, summoning a dark cloud to rest over Dean's head.

"It was...something," Dean said. "You?"

"It was...not something," Cas said. He smiled at Dean. He smiled back, feeling better at least for the moment.

Dean wasn't surprised that Bobby and the angels were in yet another argument. It took both Dean and Cas to tear them apart. Although, Dean wasn't much help because every time he tried to pull Balthazar away from the liquor cabinet, he phased right through him.

"Please," Cas said after finally getting all the angels to calm down. "Behave yourselves. You should be thankful that Bobby was considerate enough to take us into his home and provide us protection from Heaven."

"Yer welcome!" Bobby yelled from the kitchen. The angels grumbled.

"Just stay in line for a little longer." Castiel said. "We should be ready any day. Perhaps even Friday."

The angels perked up at the mention of leaving. But as the realization of what he said sunk it, the excitement turned into nervousness.

"Friday? But today's Wednesday." Samandriel said. Castiel nodded.

"That's so soon!" Gadreel said.

"And we're ready." Castiel said. "The sooner the better, we don't know how they're treating the fallen angels. Samandriel, I trust the guard routines are still on the same schedule?"

"Well, yes," Samandriel said, "but I've had reports that Heaven is organizing something...Small search parties."

Dean noticed Cas's head tilt upwards slightly and breathe deeply. He put his hand on his shoulder.

"That doesn't necessarily mean they're looking for God." Dean said.

"But if they are?" Hannah asked Castiel. His head returned to its normal level position.

"Then God will understand our intentions and forgive us." Castiel said, firmly. Dean wasn't so sure, but he couldn't bring himself to argue.

"I think it's settled then," Castiel said. "Our plan goes into action Friday morning."


	6. Chapter 6

Dean wasn't nervous, but he was jittery. Gadreel had recovered all the angel's armor and swords. He eyed the liquor cabinet, wishing for the ninth time that day that he could drink a beer, and waited for the angels to finish putting on their armor. Then Cas appeared in the doorway. Dean instinctively sucked his breath in and looked Cas up and down.

"Last I checked, a suit isn't very good armor." Dean said.

"I'm going to be infiltrating Heaven with you," Cas said, then held up a second suit. "And we need to blend in."

"Why are suits the dress code for you angels?" Dean asked. "Wait a second, that's one of my FBI suits. Where'd you get that?"

"Bobby had a closet of your stuff, so I dug out a suit." Cas explained. Dean smiled sadly, and lightly brushed his fingers against the dusty fabric.

"Well, if we're gonna do this, we might as well do this." He said, and took the suit. A moment later he came back. He straightened his tie, and smirked at Cas.

"Let's just hope these suits won't need to deflect any swords." Dean said.

"Dean, your plan is...insane. But it is good, and I'm sure we'll be alright."

"It may be my plan, but you worked out all the details." Dean said. "Speaking of which, how many other angels are coming with us?"

"Just Gadreel." Cas said. "The others will be helping with the distraction."

"Yes, I'm sure my dashing good looks will be most helpful for that." Balthazar said, breaking into the conversation. He was wearing bronze armor that he'd clearly been polishing all morning, attempting to wash away the grime that had wedged itself into the many scratches that littered it.

"If your strategic skills were as great as your ego, we'd have already won." Gadreel said, having appeared in the doorway. His arms were crossed disapprovingly over his suit. Balthazar frowned.

"And perhaps if you two ever stopped bickering, we'd have already won." Hannah said, joining Gadreel in the doorway. Her armor had once been golden, but had long ago lost most of its sheen in battle.

"Is Samandriel done yet?" Castiel asked.

"Almost," Hannah answered. "He was having some trouble. It's been so long since he's actually been in battle, not just behind the scenes."

There was a sudden crash upstairs, like a marching band had tripped during rehearsal and sent the percussion flailing. Everyone cringed.

"I better go help him out." Gadreel said, and left.

"I assume I don't need to go over the plan again," Cas said.

"It's pretty simple. We pretend to be angels, sneak in, teleport our angels out." Dean said. "Should be a piece of cake."

"I fail to see how saving the angels is anything like a sugar dessert used to commemorate the anniversary of a human's birth." Castiel said, not malevolently but quizzically. Dean gave a puzzled frown.

"We cannot be distracted by mortal pastries." Hannah said, which made Dean cock an eyebrow. "We must focus. As soon as Samandriel is ready, I will gather the troops. Castiel, give us thirty minutes to initiate battle and draw troops out."

Castiel nodded, and then placed his hand encouragingly on Hannah's shoulder. They shared a gaze, and Dean looked away. He couldn't say why, but he felt as if he was interrupting something private. However, he noticed Samandriel and Gadreel coming down the stairs.

"If we're all here, we should begin." Gadreel said as they entered the room. Hannah and Castiel looked away from each other, and Castiel took a step forward. Although he wasn't wearing any armor, and was only armed with a small angel blade instead of his usual full-length sword, he radiated determination. It seemed to overflow from his very being, and before even saying a word, it filled the room.

"We've fought many battles for Heaven, and we've lost too many brothers and sisters along the way." He said, each word like a sturdy brick being used to build a pyramid of encouragement. "And we will not loose anymore. It is our duty to protect and save souls, and that includes our fallen brethren. Even if it means facing all of Heaven's forces. But we can do it. All of you are the bravest, most brilliant, and trustworthy friends I have ever known. I am honored to fight by your side. And I know that God, wherever he is, must be as proud of you as I am."

One by one, all the angels bowed their heads and rested their hands on their swords. A soft wind brushed Dean's neck, and then he realized that the angels had unfurled their wings. Strangely enough, the room seemed to grow brighter, almost to the point of glowing. Dean had to shield his eyes, even though every fiber of his being urged him to gawk no matter the cost.

Then the light died out. Dean peeked his eyes open to find the angels had raised their heads. A moment later, Bobby came rushing in.

"What was that flash of light?" He asked.

"It is an angelic tradition before a battle to unfurl our wings." Samandriel said.

"Huh, didn't know angels were light-up." Dean joked.

Balthazar, Samandriel, and Hannah gathered together. They gave Castiel a final nod of farewell, and disappeared. The room immediately felt empty, like the dining room after the last guest has left a dinner party. Dean tried to ignore the dark, foreboding feeling that suddenly began to claw at his resolve.

"Now we wait." Castiel said.

"Dean, I'd like to talk to you before you go." Bobby said. Dean nodded, and Castiel stepped forward to help translate.

"Now boy, whatever happens out there," Bobby explained. "I want you to know that I'm proud of you. I always have been. And nothing you've done has ever changed that, heck, it's only reinforced it! And I know you still feel guilty about what happened at the bridge, but that wasn't your fault! And you saved your brother for pete's sake! So stop letting it get to you."

Bobby's words warmed Dean, but the cold worry still cut through.

"Thanks," he said sincerely. "But Bobby, I don't know what'll happen us to while we're there, and even if we're successful, I don't know if I'll be able to come back here. Being Hell's Most Wanted is one thing, but having Heaven on your back is another thing entirely. So just...do me a favor and look out for Sam, alright? Just make sure he takes good care of the impala."

Dean looked away from Bobby to Cas, who had been staring intensely at Dean during his speech.

"Dean says," Cas began, clearly trying to think of the best way to phrase Dean's words, while also not losing eye contact with him. "He says thank you. And that he's not sure when he'll be able to see you again. So he asks if you'll watch over Sam and his impala."

Bobby nodded, his eyes rimmed with red. The moment was broken when Gadreel interrupted.

"It's time." He said. Dean nodded at Cas.

"Goodbye, Dean." Bobby said. Dean smiled sadly, and took Cas's hand.

"Goodbye, Bobby."

Bobby's cluttered living room was replaced by the infinite rows of Heaven's organized cubicles, spread out like a gray honey-comb. Nearly all of them were empty. Dean remembered the last time he was here and clenched his fist. He suppressed the memory and focused on the task at hand. The few angels that were still there soon disappeared. It seemed the distraction was working.

Castiel walked forward with purpose. Dean and Gadreel flanked him on both sides. No one noticed or recognized them. Dean tried to make that iconic stoic-yet-slightly-pissed-off angel face, while keeping pace with Cas and Gadreel. They continued walking down one of the hallways, and Dean was getting nervous that they'd somehow gotten lost and would be forever trapped just walking down that endless hallway. Of course he had memorized the blueprints of Heaven and knew the door they were looking for was just a bit further, but what if he had made a mistake. Then Cas made a sharp left, and Gadreel and Dean followed him.

Before them stood a metal door, with a single lock on it. One angel had been left to guard the door, and he was lazily twirling a golden key around his finger.

"Peter." Castiel said. The angel looked up and gave them a quizzical look.

"Yes...do I know you?" He asked.

"I'm a minor angel." Castiel said. "Heaven's asked to see you in the Office of Promotion."

The angel's raised his eyebrow.

"Promotion?" He asked. "About time. I've been bored out of my mind ever since Heaven's been shut. Nobody needs me to judge who enters Heaven if nobody can get in! And then I got demoted to guarding these not-so-pearly gates. Can you believe that?"

"The nerve." Dean said. Castiel and Gadreel tensed in nervousness. "Capable guy like you? Stuck here? Waste of talent."

"Exactly!" Peter said. "So I take it you're going to be watching the fallen angels while I'm getting reinstated?"

"That's the plan." Dean said with a grin. Peter smiled back.

"I tell ya, when I first heard Heaven's plan, I thought it was crazy! But I guess it worked and now Heaven's back in action."

"Mhm." Dean said. "I heard they even kept your seat warm."

"Ha!" Peter said. "Hey, you're a funny angel. You got a name?"

Dean's eyes widened. He racked his brain for angel names but couldn't think of any. Sam would have known. This was right up his alley.

"Samuel…" Dean lied. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Cas slowly reaching for his angel blade.

"Well, Samuel," Peter said, and patted Dean on the back, "take good care of these angels. I heard Heaven's got something extra special planned for them!"

With that, he threw the key at Dean, who was slightly startled. When Peter disappeared, Dean grinned from ear to ear.

"Not bad." He said.

"That was risky." Gadreel said.

"Yes, but it worked." Castiel said. "Nice job. Now let's save some angels."

Dean held up the keys, and unlocked the door. It took all three of them to force the heavy door open. The scraping from it left marks in the floor.

Just a mere foot away were their captive brethren. However, a line of holy fire stood as a barrier across the threshold. Dean realized Gadreel and Castiel were looking at him expectantly.

"Right…" Dean said. "Guess that fire's not going to put itself out. Just give me a second."

And it took Dean barely a second to pat down a small section of the fire, which just as before was actually more like a flame than an actual fire. One would think that after last time Heaven would make their holy fire barriers stronger. Either way, the line was broken. Cas, Gadreel, and Dean stepped into the room.

There were about fifty angels in the room, and about half of them were unconscious. But the ones that were awake were either staring at the three men in anticipation, or praising Castiel for rescuing them.

"Remain calm!" Castiel said. "We only have so much time. Every angel that is healthy enough to fly, go to the base, and if you can, bring an unconscious angel. We're going to teleport everyone else in pairs. We'll have just enough time for everyone, but we must move quickly!"

"I'll go help the unconscious angels, just like the plan." Dean said, and rushed to the rows of hospital beds on which angels were lying completely knocked out, with the exception of a few who were barely conscious.

Cas and Gadreel began teleporting angels, two by two. At first, they were going at a steady rate, but as they went on and more and more of their energy was being used up, Dean could see it was wearing on them and they were slowing down. But they persevered. Soon enough, they had gotten the majority of angels back safely, and there was still no sign of any of Heaven's angels.

But the sweat that soaked Cas's forehead was apparent. He was breathing heavily, but he was still forcing himself onwards to save more angels.

Dean moved to the final unconscious angel, and noticed with a start that she had red hair. He hoped against hope, and swept her hair away from her face.

"Anna!" He said.

Excitement and disbelief blew his head up like a balloon. The light-headedness didn't bother him though. He almost couldn't believe his own eyes, but sure enough, the angel was Anna. Dean was smiling widely, and shook Anna gently.

Her head rolled unresponsively. Dean's stomach dropped. She couldn't have...He remembered with horror and fear the hopeless condition she was in when he last saw her. And if she hadn't been getting medical attention here in Heaven she almost definitely would have…

But then her eyes fluttered lightly and Dean could see her breathing. Her breaths were shallow, but breaths nonetheless. He hugged her, careful not to crush her and worsen her fragile state.

"D-Dean?" She asked softly. Dean nodded. "Am I...in Heaven?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh at that.

"In a way." He said. "But don't worry you're not dead."

Anna mumbled something, but Dean couldn't catch it. He looked up to see the Gadreel taking the last angel.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here." Dean said. He lifted her off the bed, and carried her to Cas.

Cas's state was scarcely any better than Anna's. He was wobbling to and fro, and Dean caught him just before he hit the floor.

"Cas? Cas?!" Dean asked worriedly. Gadreel was still gone. Dean bite his lip and fought to hold up both Anna and Cas.

"Cas, are you alright?!" He asked. Cas nodded.

"I-I can keep going." He said, and tried to stand up, using Dean to steady himself. "But I can only carry one other person."

"Here," Dean said, and carefully handed Anna over to Cas. Again, she mumbled something inaudible, but this time it was with more force. Dean tried to say comforting words, but she was clearly upset. Dean could decipher one word.

"Gadreel," Dean said. "Why does she keep asking for Gadreel?"

"This is not good. She must be very injured." Cas said, "We need to get her help immediately."

"Alright, just don't push yourself too hard." Dean said, but Cas was already gone.

With Gadreel, Cas, and Anna gone, Dean was left alone in the prison. In the sudden quiet, he could hear footsteps echoing down the hallway. He couldn't tell how far away they were, or even how many angels there were, but he didn't particularly want to find out. He found his blade in his coat and prayed that Cas would come back soon.

"Dean." Cas said, appearing outside the gate. He looked even worse. Dark circles had appeared under his eyes, and weariness was etched into his face. Gadreel appeared next to him, however, he was in much better shape. In fact, he wasn't even sweating.

Dean took a step forward to walk through the gate, but ran into something. He was confused. There was nothing there. But he put his hand out and was immediately repelled by some invisible force. The horrible uneasiness he had felt since earlier suddenly reemerged tenfold. His stomach dropped as he kneeled down. He could make out small crystalline salt particles that had blended into the white tile floor. His dread intensified as his eyes followed the salt in a line directly across the doorway, creating a barrier that he couldn't cross because he was dead.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Cas asked, stepping into the room.

"It's a salt barrier." Dean said. He saw Gadreel reach for something in his pocket.

"Wait, Cas, stay where you are!" Dean shouted, but it was too late. Cas stepped over the line, and Gadreel pulled a lighter from his pocket.

"What?" Cas asked, also realizing too late what was going on.

Before Dean or Cas could react, Gadreel lit the lighter, and dropped it. Immediately, a new line of holy fire was ignited and blocked off the only entrance and exit.

"Gadreel…" Cas said. All the strength and determination that had filled his voice earlier and had encouraged all the angels was gone. It had been replaced with a hollow, broken pleading.

"You son of a bitch." Dean spit, his voice reflecting his anger.

"Gadreel, why did you trick us?" Cas asked.

"I'm truly sorry Castiel," Gadreel said. "But you're leading a doomed rebellion. You're only getting innocent angels killed and making trouble for the rest of us."

"We are saving souls." Castiel replied, getting angry.

"Perhaps that was your intention, but look how far you've fallen." Gadreel said. "You're weak. Your plans are failures and it's only gotten worse since you've been too distracted following that human around like a lovesick puppy dog."

Neither Dean nor Cas said anything. They just glared at Gadreel with fiery rage.

"You have this strange fantasy that God is going to return, but he won't Castiel." Gadreel continued. "God is not going to come save Heaven. Only Michael can do that."

Gadreel locked eyes with Dean.

"You're going to save Heaven. All of it." Gadreel said. "You don't even know the half of what you're capable of."

"Gadreel-" Castiel threatened.

But Gadreel had caught Dean's attention, and all three of them knew it, even if none of them wanted to admit it.

"You've know from the beginning that Castiel was hiding something from you." Gadreel said. "He urged us not to tell you, he didn't want to distract you...but really he was worried that you'd leave him and come here on your own."

Dean glanced at Cas, then back at Gadreel. His anger was slowly dissipating and being replaced with doubt. Dean had known that Castiel had been hiding something from him this entire time, but he hadn't cared because he had put his trust into Cas. But now…

The sounds of footsteps were undeniable now, and they were close. The metallic clatter announced the arrival of what looked like a parade of silver knights. Gadreel looked up, and smiled.

"Perhaps I should let him explain." He said simply. He kneeled and bowed his head, almost brushing the floor.

The sea of silver armor parted, and the angels all dropped down to one knee. The reflection of gold swam across the other armor. Slowly, a man dressed in elegant armor stepped forward. It was the cleanest armor Dean had ever seen. He could see his reflection distorted and tinted through the shine of the gold. It reminded him of a sun, and he was sure he'd go blind staring at it, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

That is, until he looked up at the man's face. He had a triumphant smile, and Dean immediately wanted to punch him in his smug finely chiseled jaw. Deep down Dean knew who was standing before him but he refused to believe it was possible.

"Dean," The man said, and his voice triggered a memory in Dean's mind. "So glad we could finally meet. I am the archangel, Michael, the Righteous One."


	7. Chapter 7

After the angels had left, Bobby's house felt unnaturally empty. It hadn't felt this way since Dean's death when Sam had driven away in the impala, leaving Bobby alone. Bobby had checked in with him from time to time, but it felt like centuries since he'd last had an actual face-to-face conversation.

Bobby decided the best way to fill the void would be to keep his promise. Just as he was reaching for the phone, it began to ring. At first he thought it was another hunter, asking him to pose as the head of FBI or some other authority. Then he saw the caller id and his face lit up.

"Sam!" He said, "Funny, I was just about to call you!"

When Bobby heard the dark tone of Sam's voice, his face fell. He listened to what Sam was saying, the worry lines on his face steadily deepening themselves.

"You'd better get over here." Bobby said. "We've gotta talk."

 

Michael's "office" was more of a cathedral than a workspace. Light streamed in from elegant stained-glass windows. The kaleidoscope of colors illuminated the mahogany desk which had elaborate woodwork and golden trimming. The windows depicted scenes of Michael's greatest hits, ranging from defeating Lucifer to leading God's army. The room was even shaped like a cathedral, with Michael's desk being located at the head of the cross.

Michael laid his sword on the table, still unsheathed. The light that reflected off the sword created the illusion that it was glowing. On the hilt was a ruby the shade of dark wine. Michael noticed Dean skimming his eyes over the room, and stopping to gaze at one of the glass windows which was covered by a sheet.

"I apologize for the tragic state of my office," Michael said, gazing at the window being renovated. "That is where the new window will go."

Michael glanced at Castiel and concealed his smugness under a smile.

"It will depict my victory over the Hell's Angels and their leader, " Michael explained. "The fallen angel Castiel."

Castiel's face remained stoic, but underneath he was torn between anger, betrayal, and apprehension at what he knew was bound to happen. Dean felt only anger, and it was much more apparent on his face. He glared at Gadreel, who stood obediently at Michael's right side. Michael noticed, and waved his hand at Gadreel.

"Gadreel, you have served me well." He said. "You may leave."

Gadreel looked disappointed. Good, Dean thought. Gadreel left, and the large wooden door of the office slammed behind him. Michael waited for the boom to stop echoing through the chamber. He rested his elbows on the desk, and stared calmly at the them.

"I apologize for Gadreel. He is so passionate, but doesn't always know how to control himself," he said. Even though he was speaking quietly, his voice still managed to fill the room.

Michael paused again, apparently waiting for Dean to say something. He just kept glaring. Now that Gadreel was gone, his rage was focused solely on Michael.

"I expected much more...talking from the infamous Dean Winchester." Michael said conversationally. "You have quite a reputation among my angels."

The tone Michael was using with Dean irritated him. Outwardly, it was as if they were close friends meeting again after being apart for years, but it made Dean feel much more like a three-year old being talked down to by a parent. There was a certain ease to Michael that worried Dean, as if he held a winning hand of cards.

"What do you want?" Dean asked, his words oozing with contempt. Michael feigned offense. It was quite convincing.

"What do I want?" He echoed. "I just want to save Heaven and all the souls in it. That includes you."

Dean raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Keeping souls forever trapped in that eternal bus-stop isn't what I'd call 'saving'," Dean said. Michael shook his head sadly, then looked at Castiel.

"This fallen angel has twisted my image and filled your head with lies and deceit," Michael said. "I'm the one that has been saving souls, Dean."

Cas looked worriedly at Dean, but he didn't return his gaze. Michael's words cut through his soul like daggers. Cas had shown nothing but kindness to him since he'd died. Dean had tried to, but he couldn't fight off the sense of calm and safety he felt when he was with him. As if he wasn't dead, as if they weren't in the middle of a heavenly civil war. But Gadreel's words haunted his thoughts.

"You're not the first to be seduced by Castiel's lies," Michael said, matter-of-factly. "He can be very persuasive, but you and I both know deep down that he's been hiding things from you."

"Dean, I-" Cas began, but Michael cut him off.

"Do you want to know the truth?" he asked. "Castiel's been using the human souls to build an army. He plans to take over Heaven, no matter how many innocents get slaughtered."

Dean shook his head.

"I don't believe you." He said. Relief washed over Cas.

"That's not all." Michael said, folding his hands. Both Dean and Cas tensed. "...What do you know of vessels?"

"I know that angels need them to have physical forms on earth." Dean said. He didn't understand why it mattered.

"Dean, help me." Michael said. "Together, we can save Heaven."

Dean leaned back suspiciously.

"Why do you need my help?" He asked. "I'm only a human, and a dead one at that."

Michael smiled and shook his head.

"You underestimate yourself. You have a very important role to play," He said. He smiled at Dean as if he was about to tell him that he'd won the lottery. "Dean, you're my vessel."

Dean narrowed his eyes in disbelief. He turned to Cas, looking for him to say it was a lie. He only received a regretful nod. This reaction only hinted at how stunned he truly felt, but it was enough for Michael.

"I understand your apprehension." Michael said. "It is an enormous responsibility, but you're the only one who can do it."

Dean tore his eyes away from Cas and locked his jaw in determination. Michael kept talking.

"It is an honor." He explained. "Archangel vessels are specially chosen. It is a trait that is passed down in families. The Heavens have been aligning the universe for centuries to ensure you'd be born for this very purpose."

"Thanks for the honor, but I think I'll pass." Dean spit.

"I know you're apprehensive." He said. "But all of Heaven rests on us."

Dean narrowed his eyes. He didn't want to give Michael the satisfaction of answering his question, but his curiosity got the better of him and his resolve crumbled.

"What do you mean?" He asked. Cas also couldn't help but look up to hear what Michael had to say.

"I've discovered a way to expand Heaven," he said. Castiel's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Have you found God?" He asked. Michael tensed. He looked away for a moment, and then back at Castiel.

"No," he said coldly. "God is not coming back. But I am here, and I can save Heaven. There is a ring, called the Ring of Light. God used it to create Heaven, and I am going to use it to expand Heaven."

"What kindergartener named it the Ring of Light?" Dean asked. Michael's eyes hardened.

"God created that ring and everything else in the universe from it, including you." he said icily. "I've located it."

"And?" Dean asked.

"And it's in Purgatory." Michael said. Dean shook his head.

"That's just a myth, it's not-" Dean began but was cut off by Castiel.

"No, it's real." Castiel said. Dean turned and stared at Cas with a look of utter betrayal. "I couldn't tell you or the other angels. They'd want to investigate if there was land there to expand into, and it would be too dangerous."

Then Castiel took a step towards Michael and put his chin forward defiantly.

"Michael, you're insane if you want to go there."

"No," Michael said, and stood up. He was angry yet still managed to maintain his composure. "You're insane if you thought you could defeat all the forces of Heaven with your band of degenerates."

Michael looked back at Dean. He leaned forward.

"I need a vessel to enter and exit Purgatory." Michael explained. "Dean, all you need to do is say yes, and I can save everyone, even you."

"Thanks, but I'm way past saving at this point." Dean said. Michael raised his eyebrow

"You must have more faith in yourself and in me," he said, and snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, light exploded through the windows. Dean could vaguely hear Cas, but there was a deafening ringing that was so powerful it drowned out his voice. Although his eyes were closed and he couldn't see anything, Dean felt like he was falling through space. Then he felt his body drawn to something, and he was falling even faster. Just when he was sure his body couldn't take anymore, he stopped. Not stopped, but he slowed down so much that it felt like he'd stopped.

He opened his eyes for a moment, and saw a clear expanse of sky. The next moment, both him and the sky were swallowed by darkness. What felt like tiny sewing needles pierced through his skin and stitched him into something, as if someone was making a tuxedo while he was still in it. Again and again the needles attacked him until it was a steady rhythm.

There was a final tug on the string, and then the needles stopped. His hands tingled as if they were filled with dynamite. When he couldn't take it anymore, his hands began to claw. He wasn't sure what he was clawing at, and even though he could feel it sticking and digging itself into his fingernails, he continued anyway.

Whatever it was fell away, and he reached for the circle of light that emerged. He pulled himself through, and began coughing with the effort. He coughed out pieces of dirt and even a maggot. He recoiled.

Then he looked up. The sky smiled down at him, and although the light blinded him, he couldn't look away. The warmth kissed his face, and he could feel it. He looked down at his hands, now covered in a thick layer of grime. He wanted to believe it was true, but it just felt impossible. He turned around to see his gravestone. There'll be peace when you are done.

So it was true. He was alive.

Then a shadow blotted out the sun. It reached down to him. Dean's heart drummed in his chest, and blood surged through his veins. He realized the shadow was a hand, and attached to the hand was a man in a suit. An angel.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," the angel said.


	8. Chapter 8

The angel took Dean back to Heaven, but not back to Michael's office. Instead he was led down a dark corridor made of cement. The further they went, the darker it grew. Finally, they reached a titanium door with the same lock on it that the door holding the wounded angels had had. Dean didn't like the look of it at all.

There was a guard next to the door, and he began to unlock it. Then he recognized Dean.

"Well, if it isn't my good friend, Dean Winchester." Peter said amiably.

"Peter," Dean said resentfully.

"I'd just like to thank you in advance for giving me my old job back," he said. "I know you'll make the right choice."

With that, he opened the door and the other angel shoved Dean through. Cells lined one side of the room. Across from each cell was a window near the ceiling letting in a thin ray of light. The angel pulled Dean down towards the end. All the other cells were empty, except for one.

"Dean," cried a voice from the second to last cell. Dean knew it was Cas, but he forced himself to just keep staring straight ahead.

Dean was pushed into the last cell, and the angel slammed the bars closed behind him, locking him inside.

"Michael hopes you enjoy your gift," the angel said. "And he promises there will be more. This doesn't need to be a battle, and he wishes to remind you that he has all the powers of Heaven behind him. He can make it very worthwhile."

The angel waited for Dean to fall on his knees, thanking Heaven, but most of all Michael, for all the generosity. Dean remained silent and standing from behind the bars.

"This is another of his gifts," the angel continued. "Time to meditate on his offer, and consider your options. Enjoy."

The angel left with a smug look on his face. Dean's mouth twisted in disgust. Faraway, he heard the door close and click shut.

Dean was left with nothing but himself, silence, and Castiel.

"Dean, please listen to me." Cas said.

Dean ignored him and sat in the back corner of the cell.

"Michael seems trustworthy and righteous, but he's not." Castiel pleaded.

"Seems no angels are trustworthy," Dean said. Although he couldn't see Castiel, he could sense the impact it had on him.

"I know you're angry at me and I know I should have told you sooner about being Michael's vessel, but you must believe me that I did not purposely twist our relationship." He said, but Dean didn't acknowledge his words. "Please say something, just so I know you're listening."

Dean brushed the icy wall with his recently reanimated fingers, and felt the solidarity of it underneath his palm as he pressed his hand into the wall and it didn't phase through. He closed his eyes, but didn't say anything.

"Dean, please." Cas begged once more. Dean took a deep breath. For a moment he contemplated answering, but then he balled his hand into a fist and let the silence grow. Castiel gazed sadly at the thick cement wall that separated them, and prayed that Dean would say something soon.

 

As Sam pulled into Bobby's driveway, he felt guilty for his aversion to coming back. Not that he didn't want to see Bobby, he loved the guy more than he could put into words. He was practically his father. And of course he'd missed Bobby, and there were countless times when he'd pick up his phone with the intention to call but every time the ringing began he realized he didn't know what to say and couldn't bring his vocal cords to move, so he'd just hang up.

It wasn't fair to Bobby, and Sam knew that. But thinking about Bobby led to thinking about his brother. While he'd tried to avoid that for weeks, now it was necessary.

He slowly walked to Bobby's door, his fears propelling him forward. He'd called Bobby to alleviate his fears, but then he heard his serious tone on the phone and immediately put all his other plans on hold.

Before Sam could even raise his hand to knock, the door swung open. Bobby stood there for a moment. Even though Sam had confirmed with him that he was on his way, Bobby had a look of disbelief on his face. Then it was washed away with one of joy as he embraced Sam. Bobby's hug was comforting, the kind of safety one can only feel with a family member. He was disappointed when it ended.

"Bobby, I-" Sam began, looking down at the ground. Bobby slapped him on the back.

"You look good," he said, then his face fell. "You'd better come inside."

Bobby's sudden sober tone worried Sam. He quickly followed him inside. Bobby pulled two beers from the kitchen and motioned towards a chair.

"You might wanna sit down." He said. Sam took the beer and sat down. Bobby took a deep breath and began.

 

 

The cold of the prison cell gave Dean's arms goosebumps. Soreness had begun to plague his body. Maybe it was a side-effect of resurrection, but it made his back ache. Since Cas had been silent, there was nothing else to distract him.

Dean wondered what Cas was thinking. What he was doing. He'd been staring at the gray wall, as if waiting for it to come alive and let Dean step through. But it only stood there, silent and unmoving.

He'd considered speaking up many times, but the silence felt impenetrable. Even if he could, he wasn't sure what he'd say to Cas. Perhaps he should let him explain himself, but he didn't want to worsen the heartbreak he felt. The irony that had he felt better when he was dead sickened Dean.

He found himself almost wishing to return to the Waiting Room. In the Waiting Room he wasn't crushed under the weight of the silence. Here he was trapped in the same eternity, except this time he felt utterly alone.

"Dean…" Cas said, bursting the silence himself. "Please understand my intentions. I didn't want to hurt you, I only ever wanted to help Heaven."

"Wouldn't be the first time good intentions went wrong," Dean spit. Although his words were venomous, Cas felt relieved to just hear his voice.

"I acknowledge that I have wronged you," Cas said. "I doubt you'll forgive me but I am sorry."

Dean bit his lip, unsure how to reply. Torn between wanting to move on and scratching at a festering wound, Dean decided to remain silent, which Castiel determined was a good enough sign to keep talking.

"Dean, even if you don't forgive me, it is not worth sacrificing your life and body to spite me."

"But wouldn't it be worth it to save Heaven?" Dean asked.

"No," Cas said immediately. The suddenness and sureness of his words shocked Dean. He paused before replying.

"You have a vessel," he said. "I'm sure it won't be a picnic, but if only for a few days…"

"Dean, don't be foolish," Cas said, slapping Dean with the sharpness of his words. "The strain of being a vessel for an archangel is tremendous, both physically and mentally. If you are not careful, your being may be swallowed by Michael's. It's happened before, vessel and angel merging into one. You'd be lost forever."

Cas's last words of warning echoed through the chamber. Dean stared intensely at the cement wall, behind which Cas sat.

"If you won't do it for me, then do it for yourself," Cas pleaded.

"I don't matter," Dean said. "Heaven is more important."

"Except Michael will not save Heaven," Cas said. "He is a tyrant, and I know he claims to have the best intentions but-"

"You're one to talk about intentions," Dean hissed. There was silence from the wall, but only for a moment.

"Giving Michael the Ring will give him unlimited power, and if you say yes he will get the Ring," Cas said.

"So I should just rot away in this cell for eternity instead?" Dean asked.

"Not for an eternity," Cas said, his voice hesitant for a moment. "Just until the others can get us out."

"They're probably dead!" Dean said. "If we were set up, so were they."

"They are competent, they probably survived."

"Doubtful, but even if they did, do you really think they'd be able to take on Heaven?" Dean asked. Cas didn't answer, and Dean slumped back against the wall.

"If you say yes," Cas said, "then you must accept performing all of Michael's actions, being aware for all of them. And we both know as soon as Michael has fulfilled his first priority, he will move onto his second, which is my swift execution."

Cas let Dean absorb his words for a moment before adding, "If you say yes to Michael, then I will die by your hands and you will be there to witness all of it."

Before Dean could reply, their conversation was interrupted by a slight click of a lock. Dean could hear the door being pushed open, and muffled voices passed through. Heavy footsteps marched closer. Dean stood up and brushed dust off his shirt.

The footsteps stopped and the same angel from before appeared. His smug smile had been replaced with a sober frown. He opened the door and Dean stepped out confidently. There was one thing he was sure of.

The angel stopped and began unlocking Cas's cell.

"Michael wants you too." The angel said. Castiel stood up reluctantly. Dean's eyes flickered to look at him. Cas's eyes were even wider and rounder than he remembered.

"Dean," Cas pleaded, one final time. He was worried by what he saw behind those emerald eyes.

"No talking," The angel said. "Move."

So they walked forward in silence. Cas's body heat warmed Dean, and some of his soreness left him as he walked. The walk back to Michael's office seemed even longer than the first time. When they approached the embellished door to Michael's office, Dean braced himself.

Then Cas wrapped his hand around Dean's, and gave it a comforting squeeze. Dean's heart jumped. He looked at Cas, who smiled lightly. Dean could see worry and fear behind his eyes, the eyes of a criminal on death row. Yet he'd put that smile on for Dean.

But then the large doors opened and light poured into the hallway. Cas and Dean let go of each other's hands and steeled themselves. They plunged forward, into the brightness.

"Welcome back," Michael said, greeting them from his throne. His desk had disappeared, and in its place a golden throne had risen up from the floor. He was surrounded by other angels, all in suits and ties, but he was still dressed in his battle armor. He waved his hand and they quickly filed out, not even daring to glance at Cas and Dean.

Michael sat up straight, and held his sword across his lap. He gazed down austere and solemn.

"Are you ready to say yes?" He said, his voice deadly calm. Dean took a step forward, and stared defiantly up at Michael.

"Go to Hell," he said.

The entire room seemed to rumble. There was a high-pitched ringing and the elaborate windows shattered. Dean shielded his head as the glass scattered across the floor. Michael stood up, holding his sword at his side. Silhouettes of his immense wingspan flickered behind him. Dean's eyes widened, but he held his ground.

"Dean," Michael said. "I have been very patient and very forgiving, but you still fight against our cause."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before trapping souls in that crappy Waiting Room!" Dean said. Michael shook his head.

"Clearly you have not thought this through," he said. "Think of your brother."

Dean tensed. There was a flicker behind Michael's eyes.

"You died for him, why not give your body up for him too?" Michael asked. "He's finally achieved what he's wanted his whole life, being free of you and your family, and you're willing to take that all away from him?"

Dean shook his head.

"You're a crappy God, and you won't be able to handle God's power," Dean said. "If Sam were in the same position, he would stick up for humanity too."

Michael took a step down from his throne, and grabbed Dean's neck.

"Don't be so stubborn, Dean" he threatened. Dean grasped for air, but it was useless. He heard Cas yell behind him.

"I am giving you a unique opportunity here and you're ready to throw it all away!" Michael said, shattering his calm demeanor. "You could save your brother, all of Heaven, and yourself. But instead you insist on maintaining this childish rebellion. You wish to return to Castiel's toy army? What will you do? Continue to poke at Heaven with your pathetic raids? I am your only hope-"

But Michael's words were cut off abruptly. He looked at the angel's blade that Dean had thrust into his shoulder. His hands loosened, and Dean fell backwards. Cas ran up to him. Michael gripped the blade.

"How-" He began.

"You should teach your minions to keep a better eye on their weapons." Dean said. Cas helped him up, and Dean took his hand.

"Hurry Dean, before the angels come." Cas said. Dean nodded and they started running towards the door.

For a moment, Dean thought they'd actually make it. Then he heard laughter, and his hope plummeted.

"You thought it would be that easy?" Michael asked. Dean's hand was ripped out of Cas's, and they were thrown apart by an invisible force. Dean slammed into the wall. Shards from the broken window pierced his skin. With effort, he raised his head. He saw Michael gripping Cas and raising his sword in preparation to swing.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, even though he knew it wouldn't help. Michael paused. He slowly turned to look at Dean. There was a sick smile on his face. He shook his head.

"How did I not see it before?" He said, lowering Cas. His anger had disappeared. "Dean, I applaud you for a valiant effort. I am proud to have such a courageous and honorable vessel."

Dean barely heard him. He was staring at Cas across the room. One side of his face had swollen from the impact, and he had also been cut badly by the glass. Michael walked towards Dean, dragging Cas behind him.

"I was not graced with the title, the Righteous One, for nothing, so I will ask one final time," Michael said. "Say yes, or I will execute Castiel."

"You call that righteous?" Dean spit. Michael just smiled patiently. He raised his sword a bit.

"Don't do it, Dean," Cas said through his swollen jaw. Dean looked up at Michael.

"If you're as righteous as you say you are, then if I say yes, you'll agree to my terms." Dean said. Cas protested softly, and Michael waited. Dean continued.

"Leave my brother out of this. Don't. Touch. Him. Or Bobby." Dean looked at Cas. "And I want Cas to come with us."

"To Purgatory?" Michael asked quizzically. Dean nodded.

"Very well," Michael said. Cas reached for Dean, but Michael pulled him back.

"Dean, please," Cas begged. "Michael is the farthest thing from righteous."

Michael threw Cas to the floor. Dean moved towards him, but Michael pushed him back.

"I knew you'd make the right decision." Michael said. "Dean, will you be my vessel?"

Dean gave one last longing look to Cas, then locked eyes with Michael.

"Yes." He said.

There was a blinding light, and Dean could vaguely hear Cas yelling something. Then there was quiet.

Cas tried to drag himself towards Dean, but stopped. Michael had disappeared. Dean stood up, and even though Cas couldn't see his face, he knew it was too late. He could tell just from his body posture, the way he held his shoulders back and chin up. He turned around, and Cas shuddered as Michael stared at him through Dean's eyes.

"Sorry Castiel," he said, adjusting Dean's voice to his speech patterns. "You've lost."

Michael snapped his fingers, and the windows flew back into place. All the cuts disappeared from Dean's face. Michael stretched his arms. He reached down and picked up his sword, the ruby on it twinkling devilishly. He tested Dean's grip and smiled.

"This is most suitable," he said, then he looked down at Cas. "We leave for Purgatory at daybreak."


	9. Chapter 9

Sam's head was spinning. Every piece of his life he'd been struggling to build these past months were breaking apart. Actually, everything he'd ever believed was being challenged. Angels were real, but they were dicks. And Heaven existed, but it was in a state of turmoil. And his brother was alive, sort of.

Bobby watched Sam tentatively as he tried to comprehend everything he'd just heard. Sam held the cold beer to his head, trying to lessen the burning fever he felt coming on. Thinking better of it, he then opened the beer and took a long drink.

"Did he seem…" Sam began, struggling to put this thoughts into words. "Was he happy?"

Bobby looked past Sam, and shook his head.

"Lord knows what goes on in that boy's head," he said. "He seemed well, all things considered. He was well enough to have his usual loud-mouth."

Sam nodded and smiled sentimentally. He could only imagine what Dean might've said after everything he'd been through. It would probably include more than a few choice words.

"Bobby," Sam said. "The reason I called you in the first place...I, uh, I had a vision about Dean. Hopefully, it was just a dream, but… I couldn't shake it. So I thought I'd give you a call, but now…"

"What happened in the dream?" Bobby asked. Sam frowned and looked at the ground.

"Dean was there, but something felt off," Sam explained. "There was nothing but coldness behind his eyes."

"That doesn't sound like the Dean I was just with." Bobby said. They were both silent, contemplating the possible meaning of the dream.

"Sam, you said that you've been having nightmares for a while now?" Bobby asked. Sam nodded.

"None of those came true, so this one's probably nothing more than a dream," Bobby said. "But let me know if it develops further, and I'll let you know if any of the angels contact me."

Sam nodded, and stared down his beer glass.

"I better be heading out," he said, getting up. Bobby touched his arm.

"Sam, you could stay for the night if you want," he offered. Sam shook his head.

"I can't," Sam said. "I'm really sorry. It's been great to see you...And I promise I'll call you."

"You better mean it this time," Bobby joked. Sam laughed and waved goodbye. Bobby waved back as Sam walked out the door towards the car.

Sam started the engine, but he wasn't going back to college yet. This dark feeling just kept growing, and so there was only one place to go now. He'd already paid one old friend a visit, and now it was time for another.

 

He wasn't sure if it was the heavy humid weather or just the emotional forbidding hanging over him, but Sam's chest felt weighed down. He found himself breathing shallowly as he walked towards his brother's grave. He didn't expect to find anything, but then why was he so worried?

Sam paused as he overlooked the grave. He doubled checked that he was at the correct site. There were his father's and mother's graves, still fully intact. And there was Dean's headstone, but then this couldn't possibly be correct.

The ground had been completely unearthed. At first he thought something had dug up the grave, but then he realized with a heart-wrenching shock that something had dug itself out. He desperately tried to make sense of what he was seeing, but nothing made sense.

Sam pulled out his phone. As it rang, he looked to the sky as if waiting for some explanation to fall at his feet like rain. But nothing came. Bobby picked up the phone.

"Bobby," Sam said, his words heavy with a sense of urgency. "I'm coming back."

 

If it was possible, Michael's armor shone even brighter than usual. While Castiel had been locked away, Michael had been parading around in Dean's body and preparing for Purgatory. After having his own armor polished, he'd sent an order to find armor and a sword for Castiel.

Now Castiel was wearing that armor and standing behind Michael, facing the iron gates of Purgatory.

"All this time, Sector 13 was really a gateway to Purgatory," Castiel commented.

"Yes," Michael said. "but Sector 6 is the real wonder."

Castiel noticed the gates were radiating heat. No one else seemed bothered by it, but Cas felt his armor slowly heating up. The glares of anger and jealously from the angels behind him may have added to the heat in the room.

"Michael," Gadreel spoke up from the group. "I implore you, take me instead of Castiel. He cannot be trusted."

Michael glanced his eyes in Gadreel's general direction then returned his focus to the gates.

"Gadreel," Michael said. "your loyalty is praiseworthy but I've made a contract with my vessel, and so Castiel must come."

Zachariah took a step forward.

"I don't doubt your wisdom," he began. "But the vessel has already said yes, and he's powerless now. If you're bringing Castiel because you need assistance, then perhaps take one of us instead? Not me, but I'm sure Gadreel would be more than glad to go."

Castiel noticed Gadreel was wearing his armor, while Zachariah had only a suit on. Strangely enough, Castiel also noticed that out of all of the subordinate angels, his armor was easily the best. His silver armor was second only to Michael's.

"Castiel is coming," Michael said with a tone of finality. "He will not be an issue. Bringing any of you would only slow us down."

The angels were silent, but Castiel could still feel their stares on the back of his head. The stares stopped when Michael unsheathed his sword. The angels gaped at him in awe as he gazed at the gates with determination.

"Open it," he said. Slowly, two angels pulled the gates open.

A blast of warm wind raced through. Castiel grasped the hilt of his sword, but refused to look away or close his eyes. It was impossible to see what lay beyond the bright light emitting from the gate.

Without a word, Michael took a step forward and was engulfed by the light. Castiel had no choice but to follow. Not looking back, he stepped forward and was hit by another wave of heat.

As the light subsided, Castiel examined his surroundings. The first thing he noticed about Purgatory was the tinge of gray that muted all colors. Even Michael's golden armor wasn't immune to it. The rest of Purgatory was surprisingly normal looking. He and Michael were in a clearing in what appeared to be just an ordinary forest. Castiel didn't let that fool him though.

He unsheathed his sword, and scanned the trees for possible enemies. Apparently Michael was ready to move.

"Castiel," he said and motioned towards the trees. "There are dark creatures in these woods. We must move quickly."

Castiel glanced around once more suspiciously, and then lowered his sword and followed. Michael was already near the edge of the forest. Just as he reached it, a shadow moved from behind a tree.

Michael reacted immediately. His sword gracefully flew through the air and decapitated the figure. Black ooze gushed from its neck. Michael scowled at the black muck on his sword. He wiped it off on the dead figure, which twitched slightly.

But more figures emerged from hiding. Castiel's eyes flickered about the clearing and he counted about twelve enemies. He raised his sword.

"You killed one of us," one of them said, "now we'll kill you."

Michael frowned at them as if they were rats on a subway. The creature which spoke leaped forward to attack. Michael calmly moved his sword and cut across the creature's gut. The creature stumbled back, more black goo bleeding from the wound. Michael turned to the rest.

Meanwhile, Cas was dealing with several of the creatures. They'd circled him, but he was able to keep them at bay. One of them moved too close for Castiel's liking, so he cut across his torso. The creature fell to the ground, and Cas took the opportunity to jump through the opening.

Then he looked back with horror as he witnessed the creature he'd just wounded stand back up. The black ooze was sucked back into the wound, and then the skin closed. It didn't even leave a scar. Castiel stepped back defensively.

"Michael?!" He yelled. "What are these monsters?"

Michael was currently having similar issues. Each time he'd take one of them out, it would only return a moment later, good as new. He viciously cut off the arm of another, and watched it regrow. Castiel appeared next to him. He kept his back to him, warding off the creatures behind them.

"We can't fight them," Castiel said.

Michael didn't respond. He cut off the arms of another creature and then placed his hand to its head. Nothing happened, and he frowned. Just as the creature's arms regenerated again, he cut them off.

"They're immune to our powers," Castiel said. "Michael, we have to flee."

"I do not flee from battle," Michael said resentfully. He decapitated another creature.

"Michael, we will die," Castiel said firmly, and swung at one of them. Michael's eyes flared as he watched the creature reattach its head. He growled and stabbed at it, but it was useless.

"Castiel!" Michael finally yelled as he jumped over a fallen monster. He motioned for Castiel to follow him as he disappeared into the woods. Castiel brushed black guck from his face and followed. He hated to be so shallow, especially when both his own life and Dean's were at risk, but it was rather satisfying to watch the Righteous Michael run away.

When they had finally outrun the creatures and took a moment to rest, Cas was out of breath. He felt as if the armor he was wearing was somehow attracted to the ground, and it was pulling him down with it. From Michael's heavy breathing, Cas guessed he felt the same way. That was saying something because Dean certainly had a lot of practicing with running. Cas didn't want to lose the extra protection (especially after the way that last fight went) but if the rest of Purgatory was like that he feared he'd have to take the armor off.

"I've never seen monsters like that before," Cas said. Through Dean's eyes, Michael gazed ahead into the dark unknown of the forest that lay before them. Then he turned to Castiel. Cas shuddered. Dean's once warm face was now hard and cold.

"Leviathans," Michael said. "One of God's oldest creatures. But they were failures, too destructive and chaotic. He didn't have the heart to destroy them, so instead he trapped them here."

Michael scanned the forest and began to move forward again, but not before adding, "They deserved to die."

Castiel took a worried glance behind them, and then followed the faint glow of Michael's armor deeper into the forest.

 

Sam ran his fingers through his hair as he paced the floor anxiously. He'd explained to Bobby what he'd seen, but neither of them could make sense of it. Sam could barely believe it. He didn't know if he wanted to or not.

"Find anything?" Sam asked as Bobby walked into the room carrying a stack of books.

"I've got a few books that mention resurrection, one on Lazarus, and the rest are on angels," Bobby explained and dropped the books on the coffee table.

"I'll get my laptop," Sam said.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump on the front door. Sam and Bobby locked eyes and looked at each other with suspicion and concern. Bobby nodded, and he reached for the hunting knife on the table. Sam picked up the salt rifle and together they silently moved towards the door.

Bobby silently began to count and on three, he thrust the door open. Both he and Sam raised their weapons, but as soon as Bobby realized who it was he froze. He grabbed Sam's arm.

"It's the angels," Bobby said to Sam. Then he looked down at the bloody mess of people at his feet.

Blood was dripping from a crack in Hannah's armor. She could barely keep her eyes open between the effort it took her to support both Balthazar and Samandriel and the blood that was drying over her eye from the cut across her head. Balthazar and Samandriel were in even worse shape. There was a deep cut in Balthazar's leg at the joint in the armor. His blood had soaked everything, even managing to tangle itself into his hair. The agony made him take shallow breaths, each one bringing a new shock of hurt.

Samandriel's eyes had rolled over in his head. A whole section of his hair had been sliced off, taking some skin with it. One arm swung lifelessly at his side while the other was being gripped by Hannah to keep him upright. There was a bandage around his neck, but it had been soaked through with blood and was useless.

There was also a red haired woman that Bobby didn't recognize. She seemed to be in better condition than the others and she had no armor on, but she was still teetering on her feet as if she would topple any second.

"Please," Hannah pleaded, "help us."

Bobby nodded, and motioned for Sam to help him. Together, they carried the angels into Bobby's house. They laid them down and then scrambled to get medical supplies. Luckily, Sam and Bobby had had years of experience fixing wounds. However, even with all the expertise, they both felt a little overwhelmed. Nonetheless, they began to clean off a majority of the blood, tie tuniques where necessary, stitch up open cuts, and set what broken bones they could.

"I was wrong," Hannah said through gritted teeth as Sam pulled her armor off, revealing the slice that cut across her thigh. "Dean was good. He was not the traitor."

Sam didn't understand what she was saying and he tried to calm her down. She shook her head in frustration.

"No," she said forcefully. "Dean was righteous to the end. It w-was...Gadreel."

Hannah gripped Sam's shirt, as if these were life-saving words. Sam nodded.

"Gadreel betrayed us," she continued, her breathing becoming irregular.

"Yes, I understand," Sam said. "Dean does too. Whatever's happened, I'm sure Dean will forgive you. But you need to calm down so I can close your wounds."

Sam's soothing tone and calming eyes worked, and through her delirium Hannah nodded. She laid back on the sofa, which now had a thick layer of blood and grime, and she closed her eyes. Her breathing became slightly more natural, and Sam worked quickly to clean and stitch her wounds.

When Bobby and Sam had finished, their arms and clothes had turned crimson and their eyes were weary, but all the angels were still breathing.

"So...these are the angels?" Sam asked. Bobby nodded.

"Not exactly what I was expecting," Sam confessed.

Balthazar pushed his eyes open and tried to sit up.

"Whoa buddy," Sam said, "You're going to pop your stitches."

Balthazar rolled his eyes, but sat back a bit. He gazed at Sam. That made Sam uncomfortable, but at least he was now aware of his surroundings.

"You must be the brother," Balthazar said.

"You must be Balthazar," Sam said, thinking about what Bobby had told him about the angels.

"I see my reputation precedes me," Balthazar said

"And that's Hannah, Samandriel and…" Sam asked, but trailed off because he didn't know the angel with the red hair's name.

"I'm Anna," she explained. "I was one of the captured angels. Castiel and your brother rescued us, until Gadreel caught us all again. I tried to warn them but...I was too late. I was lucky though, I was able to escape and find Hannah."

Then Balthazar sucked in his breath as a wave of pain washed over him. Sam looked concerned, but Balthazar put his hands up to show he'd be alright.

"What happened to you?" Sam asked. "I thought angels were indestructible."

"Mostly," Balthazar said. "But we can be injured, or killed, with an angel blade or sword. We were supposed to be a diversion for Dean, Cas, and Gadreel to save the other angels...turns out good old Gadreel's been playing us the entire time. He set us up and there was a whole army waiting for us. It was a massacre."

"That traitor," Anna added.

Balthazar looked away. Sam guessed that the pained look on his face wasn't currently from his physical injuries. He took a breath and continued.

"We're lucky we got out," Balthazar said. "So then we went to our bases to regroup, but Gadreel had sold those out too. The ones that weren't completely surrounded by Heaven's goons were burned down. All our allies and troops, just gone. And then...we overheard some of Heaven's angels and…"

He stopped talking. Sam frowned. Bobby put his hand on his shoulder.

"Where's Dean?" He asked, his concern that had been building for days getting close to boiling over. "What's happened to my brother?"

Balthazar shook his head.

"He's gone," Anna said.

Samandriel moaned from the other couch. "He's doomed. We're doomed. This is it."

"Tell me what happened!" Sam said. Balthazar looked up at him with a gaze of pity.

"Dean's alive," Balthazar said. Sam's mouth dropped. He took a step back and grabbed a chair to steady his spinning world. His tongue was numb and fumbled over itself as he tried to form sounds into words.

"That's not…" Sam ran his hands through his hair and gaped at the ground. "I watched my brother plummet from 40 feet in the air. There was no pulse on his charred body. He can't be alive."

"He can, and he is," Balthazar said. Then added cynically, "Heaven is truly all-powerful."

Sam sat down and put his head in his hands. He saw the signs at the grave. He should be happy, and he was. But all the pain and heartbreak he'd spent months ignoring, suppressing, and forgetting was fully unleashed. It was then he realized what he had known since the moment he laid Dean's body into that grave but had pretended as if he didn't: he needed his brother.

He had felt completely abandoned. Not by Dean, but by the universe. He was angry that in the great unfairness of life, Dean had been taken away so violently and suddenly. And as a final spit in his face, Sam knew it was his fault. Bobby had assured him it wasn't and that Dean died for a good cause, the family business, he knew what the risks were, etc. But the cold hard truth was that Dean had died saving Sam. How exactly was Sam supposed to move on with his life having that guilt tugging at him?

But now it was different. Sam recalled how in the darkest realms of grief he had prayed, bargained, and even begged for God to return Dean or send a sign he was alright or just to stop the overwhelming burden his death had placed on Sam. And finally, he couldn't take anymore disappointment and the prayers stopped.

Yet now, Sam dared to hope that Balthazar was telling the truth. And if he was then that meant that Sam could have a second chance. That meant he had to fix everything. Sam looked up from his hands, his eyes wide and rimmed with red.

"If Dean's alive...then where is he?" He asked. Balthazar cringed. Anna took a deep breath and looked at Sam.

"Your brother said yes to Michael, and who knows what Heaven's done with Castiel," Anna said.

Balthazar shook his head and added, "Who knows what Heaven'll do to us once they catch us."

"Hold on a second," Sam said. "What does that mean? What did Dean agree to?"

"In order to have a form on the physical plane, angels need to possess a human vessel," Balthazar explained. "And you're brother is unfortunate enough to be the vessel for the current ruler of Heaven, the archangel Michael."

"Can't he just find someone else to be his vessel?" Sam asked. Balthazar shook his head.

"Not for archangels. Dean's the only human strong enough to be Michael's vessel...Well," Balthazar paused for a moment.

"Forget about saving your brother," Hannah said, breathing laboriously. "Balthazar forgot to mention that Michael's taken Dean and Castiel to Purgatory."

"Purgatory?" Bobby asked. "What's the big deal with that?"

"Purgatory is strictly off limits. No one has gone there for millennia. Only the highest ranked angels even knew it existed until now," Hannah said.

"Or at least, no one who's gone there has ever returned to tell about it," Balthazar added. "Maybe Castiel and Dean will be the first!"

"It is not a joking matter," Hannah said disapprovingly. "We must honor their sacrifices and keep fighting."

"Are you kidding?" Balthazar asked. "Our forces have been wiped out, our leader might as well be dead, and we have all of Heaven hunting us down, ready to jab us with their angel blades on sight. And you want us to keep fighting? How? We can barely stand!"

The hardness carved into Hannah's face fell away. Her mouth became limp and her eyelids fluttered. She turned away and stared out the window, her face a mix of embarrassment, anger, and sorrow. Balthazar grumbled to himself and laid back down. Samandriel groaned in his sleep and rolled over slightly. Bobby and Sam took in the dire situation.

They stood up and walked into the next room.

"Not very impressive, huh?" Bobby asked quietly. Sam glanced in the direction of the angels.

"I-um...not really what I expected. No," he admitted. He put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and asked, "Bobby, do you really think Dean's alive?"

Bobby pursed his lips and thought for a moment.

"I really want to believe it," he said finally. "But if it means he's being used as a puppet to further some tyrannical angel's plans, then maybe he'd be better off if it were a lie."

"His grave was unearthed. Something dug itself out from the inside," Sam said. "How are we going to save him?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure out something," Bobby said sorrowfully. He eyed Sam for a moment before adding, "Sam I know you feel guilty, heck, so do I, but don't throw away your life for Dean because you think he threw away his for yours. I've already lost you both before, and now Dean is gone again."

"I'm sorry I lost contact after Dean's death, I shouldn't have done that to you." Sam said, his eyebrows scrunching together. "But I can't live with this guilt dragging me down anymore. I need to fix this."

"You don't need to fix anything! It's not your fault!" Bobby said. Sam cringed. His lower lip quivered slightly.

"I need to at least try to get my brother back," Sam said.

"And we will," Bobby said. "We'll do it together."

Sam nodded. Bobby smiled, patted him on the shoulder, and then went back to check on the angels. As Sam watched him go, a frown tugged at the edges of his mouth.


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel wasn't even surprised anymore when the pack of vampires ambushed them. It was becoming almost routine. He raised his sword, now covered with thick layers of dried blood and black slime. Although it had lost some of its sleek edge since it had first been forged by Heaven, it was still very effective. In Castiel's hands it was deadly.

Michael attacked first, never one for patience. As much as Castiel disliked, as Dean would have phrased it, the "righteous ass with wings", he was captivated by Michael's fighting skill. No wonder there was a seemingly infinite supply of artwork and tapestries depicting it. The graceful swing of his sword through the air was more like a dance. The flash of the blade blessed the vampire with its deadly kiss, then Michael unleashed Holy White Light onto the next. Disembodied heads and piles of dust littered the ground when he was done.

He paused. Michael raised his chin and surveyed the massacre scene. Castiel realized that Michael was waiting for a congratulations on a "heroic" fight. Michael looked expectantly at Castiel, but after seeing the steely frown on his face decided it was best to drop it.

Castiel sheathed his sword, no longer capable of summoning the effort to clean off the grime. He strode past Michael, leaving the archangel to admire his accomplishment alone.

"Castiel," Michael said with a slight edge to his words, "you have lost the right to be prideful since you've fallen."

Cas's anger subsided for a moment to make room for heartache. Hearing Dean's voice being twisted in such a way at first distressed him, but now only fueled his fury. He stepped forward to stare into Dean's green eyes, which had once been filled with compassion, and faced Michael head on.

"You may be almighty in Heaven," Castiel said. "But this is not Heaven and you cannot threaten me."

With that, Castiel continued on, wanting to avoid anymore fights with monsters. At first he didn't hear Michael behind him, and he was almost worried that he would have to face Purgatory alone, and worse, that he would lose Dean forever. Yet he wouldn't let himself look back to check. Just when he was ready to break and turn back to get Dean, he heard footsteps behind him.

Let Michael be angry. As long as they were both still alive and moving forward, it didn't matter too much to Castiel.

 

The angels had been doing better. They'd healed surprisingly quickly, and had even begun walking on their own again. Bobby was happy with their progress and Sam was glad because now that they didn't need as much attention, he could do more research.

Even though he'd scoured every website, book, or bible verse, he couldn't find anything relevant to angel possession or defeating Michael. Just story after story praising his heavenly missions. With each turn of the page or click of the mouse, he felt a little hope die. Night after night he went to sleep with his eyes still blurry from reading. Although he didn't have his original dream again, it still haunted him.

He wasn't the only one on edge. The angels were all tense. Not only were they still shaken up from their narrow escape from Heaven, but they feared Heaven's return any day. The fact that Heaven hadn't found them yet only heightened their nervousness. Sam noticed that as soon as Hannah could walk again, she was pacing the hallways.

"As soon as we are healed enough to teleport, we must leave," she said, bringing the subject up again.

"And where exactly do you propose we go?" Balthazar asked. When Hannah didn't answer he replied, "Precisely."

"We mustn't give up hope," Hannah said. "Castiel would have wanted us to keep fighting."

"You're right," Sam said before Balthazar could interrupt with one of his wisecracks. "I can help. You mentioned before that vessels are hereditary. That means that if I could find Michael, I could convince him to let Dean go in exchange for me."

Hannah shook her head.

"It is hereditary, but there is only one chosen vessel for each archangel," she explained. She gave Sam a sideways glance.

"But I am a vessel?" He asked. Her eyes grew wide with concern. She pursed her lips.

"Yes," she said cautiously. Balthazar's mouth twitched. Sam's eyes flickered between them.

"What?" He asked. "What aren't you telling me?"

Hannah frowned and gazed at Sam. She sat down next to him and clenched her hands. Across the room, Balthazar fidgeted uncomfortably. Hannah glanced towards the room that Samandriel was in, then she looked at Sam.

"Michael is the eldest of the archangels," She began. Sam raised his eyebrow quizzically, but didn't stop her. "And he loved God with all his heart. He completely devoted himself to him, followed his every command faithfully and happily. His admiration was matched only by that of his younger brother. But his brother was not as...obedient as Michael. There came a time when he challenged God, and subsequently fell from Heaven."

"The devil?" Sam asked. Hannah nodded gravely.

"His original name was Lucifer," Hannah explained. She paused for a moment. "Sam, you must understand that Heaven has plans that have been millennia in the making. And all of Heaven was prepared to carry them out, no matter to what end. However, sometimes chance intervenes."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why this matters," Sam said. Hannah glanced at Balthazar, her eyes pleading for help. He shrugged.

"Sam…" She said, searching for the right words. "There were plans for Lucifer to rise, and Michael would defeat him in a momentous battle that would decide the fate of humanity, and Heaven. Just as Michael needed a chosen vessel, your brother...so did Lucifer."

"Am I...Are you saying that I'm Lucifer's vessel?" Sam asked.

"You were supposed to be. And Dean was to be Michael's," she continued. Her face suddenly darkened as she added, "but all those lives that Heaven altered and paths we changed to prepare for that great battle were abandoned when your brother died. He was an essential piece. You cannot play chess without a king. So the battle of the ages never came to be."

Sam held his head up between his hands, and gazed at the floor. Hannah gave him time to process everything he'd heard. After a few moments he brought his head back up and stared at the ceiling. Hannah watched him closely and Balthazar swirled his drink. The heavy atmosphere of the room was popped when Samandriel poked his head in.

"What are we discussing?" He asked.

"Hannah just told Sammy here about the whole 'Lucifer Vs Michael' ultimate showdown," Balthazar explained. Hannah cringed and Samandriel gaped at her.

"You told him?" He exclaimed.

"Hold on, hold on," Sam said. "So...Heaven was going to have Dean and I fight to the death?"

"It would have been Lucifer and Michael fighting, but that is essentially it. One of you would have died and the other would have to live with both the guilt of killing his brother and the burden of being a vessel for an archangel." Balthazar said, sipping his drink. "But it never came to pass."

Sam frowned, a thought crossing his mind. His forehead knit together as the thought took root and grew.

"Would Lucifer have been able to defeat Michael?" He asked.

"Who knows what would have happened," Balthazar said.

"Let's hope we never find out," Samandriel added. The other angels nodded. "I hate to worsen the already somber mood but…"

"Do you have news from Heaven?" Hannah asked eagerly. Samandriel nodded.

"I've learned why Castiel and Michael have gone to Purgatory," he said. "Heaven has uncovered an artifact called the Ring of Light. It has the power to expand Heaven, but it had been lost in Purgatory ages ago."

"So...Michael can save Heaven?" Hannah asked.

"It appears so," Samandriel said. Balthazar laughed a cynical and sarcastic laugh.

"All that bloodshed and devastation to fight Heaven and they've found the solution," he said. Anna turned angrily on him.

"The only reason they began searching for a solution at all is because we forced them to acknowledge the problem!" Anna said. She took a few breaths, trying to steady her breathing.

"We cannot trust Michael or Heaven," she said. "Somehow...I can't explain it but this doesn't feel right. It is not like Michael."

"I agree," Hannah said.

"You don't know Michael, you've never even seen him," Balthazar said. "You're just bitter that they found the solution before us."

Hannah fumed, but Balthazar cut her off before she could retort.

"Perhaps if we turn ourselves over, they'll forgive us," Balthazar said.

"Michael isn't known for his forgiveness," Samandriel said nervously.

"We are not turning ourselves over!"Anna yelled. Sam actually jumped a bit. It was so loud he could have sworn he almost heard some sort of ringing in his ears.

"Turning ourselves over is our only chance to return home," Balthazar said vehemently.

"Listen!" Sam said, standing up. "Stop bickering. No one's turning themselves over to Heaven yet. Now, this is going to sound crazy but I propose we go to Purgatory ourselves, rescue Dean and Castiel, and find this artifact."

"You're as insane as your brother," Balthazar said. "Look where his plan got us."

"Balthazar," Hannah reprimanded.

"You have any better ideas?" Sam asked. "You said it yourself, what else are you going to do? Go back to Heaven and be executed for treason or else locked away for the rest of time? There's a better way. We can't stop Michael ourselves, but there is someone who can," said Sam.

The angels' eyes widened. Hannah took a step back, shaking her head in disbelief. Anna's mouth twisted down. Samandriel's eyes were wide with fear, and even Balthazar was stupefied into silence.

"You don't know what you're suggesting," Samandriel said. "It would destroy the world!"

"Not if we're in Purgatory," Sam pointed out.

"It doesn't matter," Balthazar said. "He would find a way out eventually. Either him or Michael and I'm not sure which would be worse, but either way we'll end up screwed."

"Weren't you willing to follow your leader..." Sam said.

"Castiel," Hannah said. Sam nodded.

"Weren't you willing to follow Castiel to the ends of the earth and beyond?" Sam asked. He paused, waiting for someone to say something. When no one did, he continued, "Has that changed?"

Balthazar wouldn't look Sam in the eye, but Hannah wouldn't look away.

"Sam, I want to save Castiel just as much as you want to save your brother," she said, her voice close to cracking, "but what you're proposing is not only suicide, it's putting the entire world at risk. And with Michael in Purgatory, there would be no one to stop Lucifer."

"That's why I would make a deal with him beforehand," Sam said.

"I'm sure he would be all too happy to fight his brother," Samandriel pointed out. Hannah and Balthazar looked at him with shock and betrayal. He shrunk back.

"Please, just consider it," Sam begged. "I'm going to get my brother back, with or without your help."

Balthazar cringed, Hannah looked away, and Samandriel frowned. Sam knit his brow while his eyes flickered between them. Hannah shook her head gently, and looked at Sam, but her eyes were filled with sympathy now.

"If we agree to help you-" Hannah began. Balthazar protested, but she shot him an angry glance out of the corner of her eyes. She continued. "I will help you, but you must understand the monumental consequences if you fail. Are you willing to risk all of that to save Dean?"

Sam's eyes were big and round as he stared at Hannah. She looked back at him, but her eyes were hard as she waited for him to answer.

"Would you risk all of that to save Heaven?" He asked. Hannah recoiled. She clutched her hand and didn't answer. Balthazar glanced nervously between her and Samandriel. Anna, however, stepped forward.

"I'll help you," she said.

"Anna, don't be ridiculous," Balthazar said. "It's not worth it."

"If we could save Heaven…" Samandriel murmured. Balthazar turned on him, but he continued. "It's what Castiel would have wanted."

"I can't believe you're supporting this," Balthazar said, shaking his head.

"What do we need to do?" Hannah asked.

"You can't be serious," Balthazar moaned. "I'm not going to be a part of this!"

"I'm tired of hiding from Heaven," Samandriel said. "We started fighting for a purpose and...and we owe it to Cas to help him and save Heaven. Balthazar, don't lie to yourself. You want to help him too."

"No, I don't," he said, crossing his arms. "I want to save myself."

Hannah and Samandriel crossed their arms too, and frowned at him. He frowned.

"No," he repeated. Anna raised her eyebrow. Sam took a step back, not wanting to get in the middle of them.

"Balthazar…" Hannah prodded. Balthazar rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Alright fine!" He said. "But I'm not dealing with any demons and I'm not going into Purgatory."

"That's...That's great," Sam said, overwhelmed with happiness. "You don't need to. I just need help finding Lucifer."

"It's not a matter of finding Lucifer," Samandriel said. "It's a matter of breaking him out."

Sam frowned quizzically. Hannah glanced at the others, and then back at Sam.

"Have you heard of the 66 seals?" She asked.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for the delays on the updates. I was on vacation. As an apologies please accept this extra update in the middle of the week. Enjoy!

Cas sulked as he dragged his feet behind Michael. Michael continued walking at a brisk pace, glancing back only once in awhile to be sure Cas was still with him. He rubbed his temples as he looked back once again.

"Keep pace, Castiel," Michael commanded. "We will never retrieve the Ring if you keep slowing down."

"We will never retrieve the Ring if you don't know where you're going," Castiel bristled. Michael fumed.

"I know where we are going," he said.

"Perhaps but you don't know where the Ring is," Cas added. Michael stopped.

"I am the leader of this expedition. The only reason you're here is because I am a man of my word," he seemed about to say something more but stopped himself. He turned away and seethed. Then he turned back and said simply, "Let's...stop for a moment."

Cas frowned, and sat down sharply. Michael narrowed his eyes and sat down too. A thin line of sweat crawled its way along his hairline. Cas noticed Michael's eye twitch slightly, and then he cringed as his eyes glazed over. His hand shot to his head. He started to tug at his hair and began yelling in agony. Cas gaped at the sight, and moved to help.

Suddenly his eyes cleared and a light sparked behind them. He was breathing heavily and he was looking around wildly, taking in his surroundings. His eyes found Cas and he struggled to find the effort to say, "Cas."

Cas jumped up and rushed to him.

"Dean?" He asked ardently. Dean nodded. Cas sighed happily and smiled.

"Are you alright? How are you holding up?" He asked, fervently. Dean shook his head.

"Listen to me," he growled. He pulled Cas closer. "I've been inside Michael's head and I know his plans. You can't trust him."

Dean took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, "If you don't die along the way, he plans to kill you after you've found the Ring."

"Dean, you think I haven't expected that from the start?" Cas asked. "He can't fool me with his gifts and flowery words."

Dean smiled and said, "Cas, you sly dog."

Cas smiled back. He and Dean just stared at each other for a moment, taking each other in and holding onto the moment. Then Dean's eyes went wide and he clutched Cas tighter.

"Dean-" Cas began, but Dean squeezed Cas's arm.

"There's more. You...you can't let Michael get the Ring…" He said laboriously. He winced, and strained to keep control. "If he gets the Ring...He's not going to expand Heaven. He's going to…"

Dean shut his eyes and pulled away. He clawed at the ground, but suddenly stopped. He stared at the ground for a moment, still breathing heavily. Then he swallowed and ran his hand through his hair. Carefully, he stood up. When he turned around, Cas could see Dean was gone.

"We need to go now," Michael said. He gathered himself and began to walk away. Cas was sure he must have some suspicion of what had just happened, but doubted he wanted to admit it to himself. But Cas hadn't heard the end of Dean's warning, and if Michael was suspicious it would be even harder for Dean to take control again.

Cas forced himself to get up and follow Michael. He tried to act as if nothing had occurred, but truthfully, he had been shaken up. He didn't know what Dean had meant to say, but he did know that he couldn't let Michael get the Ring.

 

"Sam, are you absolutely sure you want do this?" Bobby asked. "I don't like it one bit."

"I have to," Sam said.

"Once we begin, we must completely follow through to the end," Hannah said. "We cannot allow anyone else to free Lucifer. It must be us."

"I know," Sam said. Hannah bowed her head solemnly. Balthazar and Samandriel followed suit. Sam cocked his head to the side, as he realized they were unfurling their wings. The room exploded with light and he shielded his eyes. The next moment, the light had returned to normal and the angels had raised their heads.

"Let us begin," Hannah said.

 

 

Cas's bones were aching just as much as his spirit was. The only thing that kept him walking hour after hour, and fighting skirmish after skirmish, was the hope that if he just persevered a bit longer, Dean would come back. Every now and then, he could almost convince himself that it was Dean he was walking with, or that it was Dean who was wielding that great sword and fighting alongside him.

"Are we any closer to the Ring?" Cas asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," Michael said.

"I somehow doubt that," Cas said. Michael scowled and continued walking.

"What do we have here?" A Southern accent asked. Cas and Michael turned to see a man step out from behind a tree. Several others appeared too, and suddenly they were surrounded. Michael's scowl deepened as the men pulled out knives. The first man to speak smiled, and his fangs glimmered in the faint light.

"Vampires," Cas said. The man winked.

"And you must be angels," he said. "Pleasure ta' meet you."

Michael skipped the introductions and unsheathed his sword.

"Straight to the fighting, alright," the vampire said, and lunged forward.

Cas dodged him easily, and kept him at a distance with his sword. Meanwhile Michael was quickly cutting down the vampires. The lead vampire and Cas circled each other, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

"Your friend over there sure knows how to swing a sword," he said. Cas grimaced.

"He's not my friend," he said resentfully. The vampire put his hands up.

"Didn't know," he said. "Guess most folks down here end up with fighting with whoever they need to to survive. Although, we don't get many angels."

Suddenly, Cas heard Michael cry out behind him. He quickly glanced back to see one of the vampires had managed to scratch Michael's neck. The cut itself wasn't bad at all, but his pride was injured. Cas didn't need to keep watching to know that those vampires were going to suffer. He looked back, but the vampire took advantage of his distraction and pounced.

Cas jumped in shock. His reflexes took over, and he rolled to avoid the vampire's knife. He kneeled to get up, but the vampire attacked again and he was forced to stay kneeling. They continued to block each other's attacks. Cas knew it was only a matter of time until one of his blocks failed, so he moved quickly. His leg shot out and hooked around the vampire's, causing him to catapult to the ground. He'd clearly been caught off guard. He fell with a gasp, and his knife skidded away.

He looked up at Cas as he put his sword to his neck. Just as Cas was about to decapitate him, something stopped him. The vampire was smiling up at him, his eyes twinkling.

"You gonna kill me?" He asked. "You can go ahead, you won fair and square. But I can help you."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, and put more pressure on the vampire's neck. The vampire looked nervously at the sword, but he wasn't dead yet. He kept talking.

"I overheard you two bickering about the Ring of Light," he said. "I know where it is and I'll take you there if you don't kill me."

"You know where the Ring is?" Cas asked incredulously. The vampire nodded.

"Castiel, what are you doing?" Michael said, brushing vampire guts off his feet and onto onto the grass. "Kill the thing."

"He knows where the Ring is," Cas said. Michael's mouth turned down.

"I know where the Ring is," he said.

"Is that why you were going in the opposite direction?" The vampire asked. Michael was speechless, and he gawked down at the vampire. Cas couldn't help but smile.

"Alright Castiel, you've had your laugh," Michael said.

"He can take us to the Ring," Cas said, and noticed Michael's grip tighten on his blade.

"We can't trust him," Michael spit. Cas rolled his eyes, but the vampire raised an eyebrow.

"Ya'll clearly don't understand Purgatory," he said. Michael's nostrils flared. "Down here, it's all about survival, no matter what it takes or who you have to work with. I want to survive, and teaming up with two powerful angels seems pretty good to me. So why the devil would I undermine that?"

Cas was about to fight for him, when he noticed Michael's facial expression change. It was incredibly slight, but Castiel knew every muscle and twitch in Dean's face. He recognized that slight squint in his eyes and jump of the eyebrow which revealed that Michael was, if not completely on board, at least curious. He guessed it had been the "powerful" adjective used in Michael's vicinity. After the adoration withdrawal, Michael must be willing to take whatever he can get.

"I have decided," Michael announced. The vampire raised his eyebrow quizzically at Cas, who widened his eyes sympathetically. "The vampire may travel with us, but I want you both to remember who is in charge of this expedition."

Cas sheathed his sword and offered the vampire a hand. He took it, and hopped up. He brushed some dirt off and offered his hand for a shake.

"I'm truly grateful," he said, his accent adding a ring to his words. "Name's Benny LaFitte."

"Castiel," Cas said, shaking his hand. He gave Michael a sideways glance. "And that is the archangel Michael."

"An archangel?" Benny asked. "Ya don't say."

"I do…" Cas said, tilting his head and pinching his eyebrows together. Benny smirked.

"Well, Castiel and Michael, what's say we find that Ring?" Benny asked.


	12. Chapter 12

The neverending twilight of Purgatory made it impossible to accurately tell time, but Castiel's legs ached as if he'd been walking for centuries across sand. Benny was strolling along casually in front of him, while Cas was struggling to keep his feet moving.

"So Heaven's full?" Benny asked, glancing back at Cas and Michael.

"Unfortunately," Cas said. Benny shook his head and laughed.

"Purgatory's not looking too bad anymore…" he said.

Cas stumbled forward and his legs liquified. As he collapsed, his armor crashed together. The ring of the metal vibrated through the woods like orchestra cymbals announcing the climax of a song. Cas tried to lift himself back up, but his arms only shook under the pressure and threatened to snap at any moment.

Benny kneeled to help him up, but Michael grabbed his arm.

"Leave him," he said. Benny tore his arm away and narrowed his eyes at Michael.

"I'm ain't leaving him to die," he said.

"All of Purgatory heard that," Michael said. "If we don't leave immediately, we'll be surrounded."

"We'll be gone soon enough," Benny said. "Help me get his armor off."

Michael didn't move to help. He raised his head, and tilted his chin downwards. A shadow crossed his eyes.

"We're leaving," he commanded. "Now."

"You can go," Benny said. "But good luck finding the Ring without me."

Michael unsheathed his sword.

"That was not a question," he said with a tone of finality. Benny's mouth turned down at the glint of the sword's edge. He carefully set Cas's arm down, and stood up. He whispered an apology to Cas, and walked towards Michael.

Just as Michael was lowering his sword, his eyes widened. His sword fell to the ground and his hands clenched around the rim of his armor, as if it were choking him. Benny gaped at him. Michael hissed something, through his gritted teeth, but it clearly wasn't directed at Benny or Castiel. Finally, his convulsions stopped.

When he looked up, Benny gasped. Michael's eyes had lost their angelic glow and had transformed from golden to a green the exact color of the leaves of the weeping willow's from Benny's hometown. Benny knew it wasn't Michael standing before him anymore. The man blinked away cobwebs, and caught sight of Benny. He gave him a confused look.

"Who are you?" The man asked roughly.

"Who are you?" Benny asked. The man opened his mouth to answer. Then he saw Cas, and rushed towards him, completely forgetting about Benny. His eyes nervously scanned Cas to find any injuries. When he didn't see any, he started tearing off the armor. All the while, he alternated between whispering reassurements and growling with frustration. Then he turned on Benny, his green eyes a staggering contrast to the gray of Purgatory.

"I could use some help," he growled. Benny jumped out of his daze.

"Apologies," he said. "I take it you're not Michael?"

The man scowled and ripped off one of the arm sections from Cas's armor. He tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.

"I'm trying my hardest not to be," the man said. "Clearly I'm not doing great."

At the sound of the man's voice, Castiel murmured something inaudible. The man sucked in his breath and held Castiel's face in his palms. He called out his name desperately. Benny didn't see the point, until Cas started to fidget. The man's voice acted as a lighthouse breaking through the dense fog that clouded over the ocean. Finally, Cas gathered the effort to open his eyes. As soon as his blue eyes met those green eyes, his hand shot up and grabbed the man's shoulder.

"Dean," he said, touching the man as if to verify that he was more than just a fever vision. He repeated the name over and over. It was fascinating how one moment he sounded jubilant and the next remorseful. The man, who Benny guessed must be Dean, shook Cas to keep him focused.

"Listen to me," Dean said, his concentration settling in his eyes. "We're going to get his armor off you and then you're going to get up and keep walking. You've got to fight through this Cas. Please. Just keep going. I'll be right with you the whole time."

"Dean," Cas pleaded. The scene made Benny feel like an intruder.

"Cas," Dean said. "I'm losing control again. Just keep going. You can't let Michael get the Ring."

Dean started to pull away, but Cas desperately grabbed his arm. His eyes begged for just one more moment. Dean couldn't tear himself away, so he helped lift Cas up. Without all his armor, it wasn't very hard for Dean to support a withered Castiel. Still not breaking eye contact, Dean shifted Cas's weight carefully and transferred him over to Benny.

Benny took Cas, who with the last of his strength tried to hold onto Dean. His hand slipped away, and Dean turned away just as his eyes and skin began to glow. The light intensified until he starting yelling in pain. Then a shadow flashed behind him. It disappeared, taking the bright light with it.

The man turned back to Benny and Castiel, his golden eyes glowering at them. Still holding Castiel, Benny acted quickly and said, "What are you staring at? We need to go now if we don't want to be surrounded."

Michael's hand twitched and he narrowed his eyes slightly. Benny braced himself to be incinerated by holy light. Then Michael turned away and started walking out of the clearing.

"Yes, we'd better," he said.

Benny paused for a moment, but then dragged himself and Castiel after Michael.

Dean had been right; taking the armor off did wonders for Cas. He still had to lean on Benny every once in awhile, but eventually he was able to completely walk on his own. Soon enough, he was even recovered to the point of fighting off monsters. Michael didn't even seem to notice.

All that time, Benny's questions had been accumulating. He knew better than to outright ask them, or even mention what had happened in front of Michael. He kept waiting for the ideal moment to confront Cas about the strange scene he'd witnessed, but Michael was never out of hearing range.

Finally, Benny decided enough time had past for Michael to put his guard down. As they passed a group of trees indistinguishable from the rest of the stale forest, Benny's restraint caved in.

"I think it's about time I spoke up," he said. Cas shot him a concerned glance, and Benny winked back.

"Is it about the Ring?" Michael asked. Benny shook his head.

"No, it's about after we get the Ring," Benny said. Cas and Michael gave him puzzled looks.

"Let me explain," he said. "Purgatory is a cage, and that means it's not too easy to get out of. Only humans can pass through the barriers."

Michael laughed.

"That's not an issue," he said. "I have a human vessel."

"A human what-now?" Benny feigned surprise.

"A human vessel," Cas explained. "Angels require vessels in order to have physical forms. But they must have the vessel's consent. From then on, the angel and vessel's fates are intertwined."

Benny nodded his head as more of the pieces fell into place. There were still blanks he needed to fill in though.

"So did y'all just pick up humans from the streets?" Benny asked, masking his true intent with a joking tone. Michael glanced at Benny out of the corner of his eyes. The hidden ferocity behind them made Benny feel like a mouse being hunted by a hawk. He laugh in an attempt to dispel the tension, but it felt forced and nervous.

Michael lost interest and focused his eyes forward again.

"Vessels are specially chosen, and only a few humans are privileged enough to be capable of supporting an angel," Michael said.

"Huh…" Benny said, mulling over what Michael said. "At least we won't have a problem leaving."

Michael raised his eyebrow, but didn't say anything. In the sudden lull of the conversation, running footsteps pattered on the packed dirt ground behind them. Without blinking an eye, the men readied their weapons. When the monsters arrived, they were ready for them.

Cas took the first swing, and decapitated the closest monster. That unrelenting black goo started pouring from the stump where his head was. In a moment, Cas, Benny, and Michael adjusted their attacks. There was a steady rhythm of swords whisking through the air and heads thumping to the ground. When seven heads had been separated from seven bodies, they started tossing the heads deep into the forest.

The bodies crawled away, leaving trails of black goo behind them. Cas, Benny, and Michael continued onwards.

"Monster attacks have been increasing," Cas noticed. Michael nodded.

"That is to be expected," he said. "It is only natural that an artifact as ancient and powerful as the Ring of Light would attract so many monsters."

"We'll have to be more alert and move faster, or risk being surrounded," Benny said. He glanced at Michael. "You might move faster if you take off your armor."

"Do not fear," Michael said. "My armor does not weigh me down."

"Suit yourself," he said.

"Do you have any idea how much farther it is to the Ring?" Cas asked.

"Actually, we're just about there," Benny said. Michael perked up, and increased his speed.

"He's eager," Benny said. Cas shook his head.

"You've no idea."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the inconsistent updates. From now on I'll just be posting once each week whenever I get the chance, so just stay tuned. Hope you enjoy this chapter! (and please leave a comment/kudos if you do!!)

Michael's pace had been steadily increasing, as if he was physically attracted to the Ring's magnetic power. With each step, Cas only felt more ill at ease. The ache in his shoulders reflected the tension he was feeling. Benny outwardly kept his casual attitude, but Cas noticed his saunter was slightly stiffer than usual.

Cas was surprised when Michael was the one who stopped on the edge of a small clearing. The brightness coming from the clearing was shocking in contrast to the constant twilight of Purgatory. Benny locked eyes with Cas and nodded his head.

"It's here," Michael said, stepping into the clearing. Cas and Benny followed close behind.

In the very center was a marble pedestal reaching for the sky. A single light shown down on it, illuminating the rest of the clearing and creating the illusion that the Ring was harnessing the power of the sun to light up the entire clearing.

Michael's eyes glinted proudly. Castiel glanced worriedly at Benny. Benny noticed his hand was resting on his sword, and his shoulders were tense.

Meanwhile, Michael was completely calm. As he walked forward, his chin was held high as if a crown was balanced on his head and his shoulders were pressed back as if there was a cape billowing behind him. Castiel stepped forward, his jaw set and his eyes unflinching.

"Michael, I cannot allow you to take the Ring," he said. "Your intentions are corrupt."

Michael ignored him and continued walking. Castiel unsheathed his blade. The scraping sound of metal made Michael pause. He turned and looked at Castiel. Cas was stunned for a moment by the look of pity on his face. For a moment, he almost believed that Michael didn't actually want to kill him.

"You cannot stop me," Michael said. "But I know that will not stop you from trying."

Castiel and Michael stepped towards each other, raising their swords for battle.

"Hold on a moment, buddies," Benny said, interjecting. "There's enough fighting going on in Purgatory, we don't have to add more."

"For your own good, stay out of this," Michael said. "This is between us."

"Relent and we will not have to fight," Castiel said. Michael shook his head.

"I cannot," he said. "Ruling Heaven is not easy. Even one angel out of place can cause the entire system to collapse. It requires a capable leader, someone who can enforce justice. The Ring will give me absolute power over Heaven. Just as no one challenged God, no one would dare challenge me. Not even you, Castiel."

"That is why you must be stopped," Castiel said resolutely.

"I respect your fortitude," Michael said. "It is a shame you will die for it."

Benny rolled out of the way just as Michael's sword sliced through the air. Castiel hopped backwards, narrowly missing the sword's path. Michael allowed the sword to continue through its arc, and then directed its swing in a circle back towards Castiel. The angle of the strike fueled the force of the slash, so that it's motion resembled that of a diving hawk. Anticipating the attack, Castiel raised his sword defensively and adjusted his footing. He blocked the strike, but its magnitude pushed him back.

Michael continued his strategy of fast, constant strikes. Castiel tried desperately to find an opening between Michael's fluid attacks, but instead he could only block and dodge. Benny watched nervously as Michael forced Castiel back farther and farther. He jumped when during one strike Castiel stumbled. He regained his footing, but Michael quickly took advantage of the momentary weakness. The attacks increased in ferocity.

A layer of sweat condensed on Castiel's face. His breathing became faster and more erratic. With each movement, Michael seemed to absorb some of his energy. Castiel's actions became more sluggish, while Michael's intensified with each swing.

His small knife felt insignificant in his hand as Benny watched helplessly. His mother hadn't raised her son to idly stand by while there was wrong being done. Yet what could he do if his blade would be shattered like glass in the rocket-fire onslaught.

With a momentous force, Michael's blade came crashing down on Castiel. But this time, he did not step back. Castiel held his ground, and as Michael funneled all his strength into pushing him to the ground, Castiel refused to relent. He was forced to one knee, but kept his blade up.

"Bow down," he ordered.

"No," Cas said through gritted head. "I fight for Heaven and Dean."

"So do I," Michael said, looking down at Cas and forcing him further down. Castiel's arm began to shake as the pressure began to fracture his stance. At such close range, Cas noticed the glow in Michael's eyes had intensified. Just as his body gave way, Cas fell to the side. Michael's sword drove into the ground. It gave Cas the opportunity he needed. He rose up quickly and ran headlong into Michael.

Thrusting all his bodyweight into him, Castiel shoved Michael to the ground and out of reach of his sword. They fell with a grunt. Immediately, the fight degenerated into a barbaric fistfight. The two angels rolled around, exchanging punches. For a moment, Michael was able to pin Castiel to the ground. He clamped his fingers around his neck and started to squeeze. Castiel gazed up at Dean's face, which was painted with streaks of dirt and spatters of blood, and he found the effort to kick Michael in the gut.

He fell backwards, but used the momentum of the fall to propel himself towards his sword. Still on his knees, Michael tore it from the ground and twisted around. However, Castiel had also taken the opportunity to grab his sword, and he was ready for Michael's strike. With a well-placed flick of his wrist, he tossed Michael's sword out of reach.

Michael's cracked lips were slightly ajar as he stared at his suddenly empty hand. His eyes followed the its path and found the fallen sword halfway across the clearing. He looked back up towards Castiel. His eyes reminded Castiel of full moons, large and round with a hint of glow around them.

"I'm taking the Ring," Castiel declared, gently pressing his sword against Michael's throat. "And when we return to Heaven, you will leave Dean's body."

Cas locked his hand tightly around the hilt of the sword and awaited Michael's surrender. However, the static that had filled the air and the sinking weight in his stomach made him pause. Michael looked up at him, but the glowing around his eyes had increased. They were now aflame with a blinding white light. The light spread from his eyes through his body, illuminating his skin from the inside. Cas's eyes were wide and his mouth was open as if he was going to say something, but had forgotten what it was halfway through his sentence.

Dark clouds appeared overhead, swirling grays on a dark canvas. Lightning crackled above. Michael raised one hand above his head, and with a thunderous snap, a streak of lightning flashed down. It struck Michael, and he wrapped the lightning itself around his arm as if it was a snake curling around its prey. He pulled his arm back, and lashed it at Castiel as if it was a whip.

The lightning cut through the air and hit Castiel squarely on the chest. It shot him back several feet into a tree. With a thud, he fell to the ground. There was a black blister on the tree where he'd hit it.

As Michael stood, the lightning retreated into the sky. He wiped a fleck of dirt from his face and retrieved his sword. Castiel moaned, tried to raise his head, and promptly collapsed.

"I'm shocked you survived that," Michael said, kneeling over Castiel. "You could never have defeated me. But do not worry. Heaven is in the best hands now."

"Hah," a voice mocked from the outskirts of the clearing. Michael froze. "Nice little light show you just did. When do you pull the bunny out of your hat?"

Michael stood up, and frantically scanned the clearing for the owner of the voice.

"It is not possible," he whispered under his breath.

"What's wrong, brother?" The voice asked, as a man stepped into view, his obsidian armor having hidden him amongst the trees. "Didn't you miss me?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting towards the end! Due to popular demand I decided to post a bit early. I hope you guys enjoy some Lucifer >:)  
> (If you do be sure to leave a kudos or some feedback! Even if you don' enjoy!! I just love to hear what you guys think!!)

Michael frowned disapprovingly at his brother. He felt Dean's anger overflow into his own, invigorating his fury. The way Lucifer strolled nonchalantly, yet purposely in a circle as if to intimidate him, irritated Michael. That infuriating smile of his spread across his face. Seeing his brother's face being contorted into such a malignant shape pissed Dean off further. For once, Michael and Dean agreed on something.

"I see you've gotten yourself a vessel," Michael said. "Sam Winchester."

"We got a matching set," Lucifer said with a wink. "I should thank you. The kid was in such a sorry state he was practically begging for my help after what you did to him."

Michael did not answer. Lucifer squinted his eyes at him.

"Are you jealous?" He asked. "I guess all that gossip I heard from down in the cage was true. Your vessel was pretty stubborn, huh? But you seemed to have persuaded him. Lemme guess, did you use the classic, do it for the good of Heaven bit? I do like that one. It's just sooo...righteous."

"Mock me," Michael said. "But I was honored that name for a reason."

"Because you were daddy's obedient little knight?" Lucifer asked.

"You taunt me, but look how far you've fallen," Michael said. Lucifer glanced around, then looked back at Michael. His eyebrows were raised high.

"Fallen?" he asked. "Perhaps once. But that's the thing about falling, brother. You can always get back up...And on that note, I've come to collect my property."

"Nothing here belongs to you," Michael said.

"That's not quite true and you know it," he said. "I want the Ring of Light."

"I will not allow you to take it," Michael said. Lucifer shook his head.

"You know you can't stop me. I was always the strongest," he said. Michael's eye twitched ever so slightly.

"I refuse to use my full power on you, brother, and you know that," he replied, his hands tightening around his sword. "But I will send you back to your cage and I will ensure that you never leave again. Then I will use the Ring to save Heaven."

Lucifer bent over laughing. He flipped Sam's hair out of his eyes and wiped away a tear.

"You always did love taking my stuff," he said, causing Michael's eyes to flare and light to stream from their corners.

"The Ring is not yours," he said.

"Don't you remember?" Lucifer asked. "Dad gave it to me for my hundredth birthday...and that was the year he made those horrible animals in your honor."

"Horses, Lucifer…" Michael groaned.

"Whatever. I guess they're appropriate for you though…" he pinched his nose. "They smell disgusting."

"Your sense of humor is truly a gift to the world," Michael said in a monotone voice.

"Someone's touchy," Lucifer said, raising his eyebrows. Then he narrowed his eyes and started twirling his sword in circles, "Look Mikey...I made a deal with Sammy that I would get his brother back home safely, so how about you drop your vessel, give me the Ring, and I'll make sure the cage is nice and comfy for you. Maybe I'll even let you see the new window I'm going to have installed in my new office. It'll replace those crayon doodles you have up there now."

"My vessel is staying with me," Michael said firmly.

"You always have to make everything so difficult," Lucifer groaned.

Instantly, his tone changed as he leapt forward, cleaving his sword through the air. Michael sidestepped and sliced back. Lucifer brought his sword up, and Michael's glanced off it. Michael carved his sword through the air and hit him again. He twisted it away.

"A little rusty, huh?" Lucifer asked, a mocking smile on his face.

Michael continued his attack with a scowl plastered across his face. Lucifer easily deflected it.

"I will not let you get the Ring," Michael said. Lucifer raised his eyebrow quizzically.

"But it's rightfully mine, therefore, shouldn't the _righteous Michael_ give it to me? Preferably on a silver platter."

Michael gritted his teeth and charged.

"It's not yours," he said as Lucifer intercepted his blade.

"Lucifer: Bringing the Light of God. Ring of Light? It's _named_ after me," Lucifer said. Michael slashed again. When his strike was blocked, he stepped out of Lucifer's range.

"It was named because God put part of his power into it," he said. "He was intending it for his successor."

"And who do you think that is?" Lucifer said, grinning wolfishly. "You're kidding me. You honestly thought you were next in line?"

Thunder crackled overhead.

"I didn't think he would leave at all, and neither did you," Michael bowed his head for a moment, "but it is clear that he planned for me to use the Ring to rule in his stead."

"Stop lying to yourself," Lucifer moaned. "If he wanted someone to rule in his stead, it would have been me. But he left no divine plans and he's not coming back to make any."

"He may have abandoned you," Michael hissed, "but he did not abandon those of us that remained faithful."

Lucifer's smile vanished. His sword was deadly still, his entire hand coiled around the hilt.

"Why should I have faith?" he asked. "First God abandoned me. Then you did."

His smile reemerged. It slowly curled up his face until it was swallowed by the creases around his eyes.

"God's plans are over. It's time for mine to start," he said. He eyes his sword excitedly. "What say we give these vessels a real test drive?"

The two angels flew at each other, quickly erasing the distance between them. The shadow of their wings danced across the sky as their swords met with a mighty spark. The force threw them both backwards, but only momentarily. They met again, but this time Lucifer hit strike after strike, forcing Michael to remain on the defensive. Then, finding a moment to adjust his footing, he prepared himself and slashed at Lucifer.

Suddenly the battle evolved into a tango of strikes delivered back and forth. Each hit flowed into another, creating a deadly cycle. One mistake and victory would be assured.

"I know you can do better than this, Michael," Lucifer said, looking down at Michael with Sam's big puppy dog eyes. Michael shoved him back with a grunt. He stumbled backwards, but caught himself. He looked at Michael with curious anticipation.

Michael raised his sword to the Heavens but kept his eyes locked on Lucifer. The dark war drums in the clouds rumbled threateningly. Lucifer glanced excitedly at the white lightning that twisted through the clouds. The largest streak broke free and was instantly pulled to Michael's sword. The lightning clunge to the sword, making the ruby simmer. Michael used his wings to propel himself forward, and dove at Lucifer, a stream of lightning trailing behind. When their swords connected, Lucifer was launched backwards. His body carved into the ground as he slammed into it. The lightning still whipped around his pitch black armor.

Michael lowered his sword, and stared at Lucifer with concern. A light breeze cooled the sweat rolling down his face. He calmly waited as Lucifer pulled Sam's body up. A smile was etched across his face.

"Nice try," he said with a wink. Michael gripped his sword and raised his chin. Lucifer raised his sword, and he redirected the lightning coiling still around him towards it. Michael's eyes widened as Lucifer blasted the lightning across the clearing. It shot through Michael's chest, infecting his body with its electric kiss. The shock sent him hurling against a tree. The tree split in half from the impact, and Michael fell to the ground, smoking. His blade laid at his feet, its ruby shattered.

The lightning had torn through the stitches binding angel and vessel, and now Dean was also lying on the ground, his skin sizzling. Lucifer gazed over the scene with a satisfied smile.

"When you play with lightning," he said, blowing on the smoke curling off his sword. "You get your vessel burnt."

Michael struggled to pull his head up. Dirt graced his cheeks as he glared up at his brother. He stretched for his sword, lying a few feet away. As he tried to drag himself towards it, Lucifer pressed his foot into his back.

"Wonder what Dad would say if he could see us now," he said. He scrunched his eyebrows together and gazed down at Michael. "Probably, _I'm not that surprised._ "

He laughed up at the sky. Michael squirmed beneath him. He glanced down.

"What? That's _funny_ ," he whined.

"I'm not laughing," a voice growled behind him. Lucifer raised his eyebrow and turned around. He cracked a smile at the sight of Dean Winchester, still wearing Michael's armor and holding Michael's sword as if he intended to fight him.

"Now, that's _really_ funny," Lucifer said.


	15. Chapter 15

“Now, that’s _really_ funny,” Lucifer said. “I think I’ll let you stay alive with Michael in the cage. You two would be great entertainment.”

“Too bad I don’t have any stage presence,” Dean said coldly. 

“Dean, say yes again,” Michael said, still too weak to stand. “I can still defeat him.”

 “You had your shot,” Dean said, glaring at Lucifer. “Now it’s my turn.”

Michael fumed while Lucifer raised his eyebrow expectantly, waiting for Dean to say something. Instead, he ran towards him, gripping Michael’s sword tightly. He slashed at him, but instead of aiming for his chest or head, he cut at his legs. Lucifer jumped back, but Dean was able to scratch his armor. Lucifer frowned.

“Now I’ll have to get this polished again,” he whined, but unlike Michael, Dean didn’t wait for Lucifer to finish his commentary. He attacked again, this time aiming for the cracks between the armor. Lucifer blocked him. 

“If you hurt me, you hurt Sammy too,” he said. Dean responded by slamming the hilt of Michael’s sword into Lucifer’s skull. He stumbled back, wincing in pain. Dean didn’t back down. He charged again, this time kneeing Lucifer in the gut, causing him to drop his sword. He bent over, gasping for breath. Sam’s hair fell over his face. 

“Sammy, I know you’re in there and I know you can hear me,” Dean said, knocking Lucifer on the side of his head again. “Keeping fighting him.”

 Lucifer growled and lashed out, but Dean dodged him. He slammed his head into the ground. Dean punched him in the face.

“I’ve lost you once, I’m not losing you again” Dean said, continuing to punch Lucifer. “Sam, you’re going to take back control and shove this douche out of your head!”

 Lucifer’s face twitched uncomfortably, his smile long gone. A faint light flickered behind his eyes. Then he frowned, and darkness swallowed the light.

 Lucifer raised his hand as Dean swung his fist down again. As if he’d been punched by air, Dean was thrown back. Lucifer stood up, wiping blood from his lips.

 “Impressive, but that’s not going to get dear little Sammy back,” he hissed. Dean moved to get up, but Lucifer pressed his foot onto his neck. He slowly applied more force, crushing his windpipe.

 “Your brother is gone. And it’s your fault,” he said, leaning over Dean. He cocked his head to the side. “You can have all of eternity to fathom the fact that your brother is now my meat puppet while you’re locked away with Michael.”

Dean gagged underneath his foot. He leaned down further.

“Maybe if I’m in a really good mood, I’ll even visit you once in awhile. It’ll be a fun little family reunion for everyone! Or maybe I'll just kill you,” He laughed, and gave Dean one last kick on the side of his head. His eye was swollen, and blood saturated his hair.

“One down, one to go,” Lucifer said. He looked expectantly towards the pedestal encompassed in light. Walking towards it, he slowed down as the light enveloped him, giving Sam’s hair an ethereal halo. Narrowing his eyes, he brushed his hands across the smooth marble surface. His eye twitched, and he slammed his hands down on it, cracking it in half. He turned, spreading a cold anger through the clearing.

“Where is it?” He asked, gliding over to Michael.

“It’s not there?” Michael asked, confused. Lucifer gave him a frigid look of frustration.

“No…” He said, returning to Dean. He grabbed him by his neck, his hands fitting onto the purple bruises already there like puzzle pieces.

 “Hand it over, Deanie,” he said.

 “I wouldn’t give it to you even if I had it,” he growled. Lucifer shoved him to the ground and scanned the clearing. His eyes rested on Castiel’s limp body. Dean tensed as Lucifer kicked Castiel over. He moaned in pain.

 “I’m surprised you’re still alive, Castiel…” Lucifer said, tilting his head in contemplation, “tell me, how do you like being shunned and marked as a traitor by your family?”

 Castiel didn’t answer. Lucifer sneered.

 “Not too good, huh?” He said. He leaned down, forcing his face near Cas’s. Dean watched the scene angrily.  “But it’s not too late to redeem yourself. Give me the ring and together we can save Heaven from itself.”

 “No,” Cas said, curling his upper lip.

 “Don’t be foolish,” Lucifer said. more force behind his words, the friendly outward tone fading away. “Just give me the Ring.”

 “I don’t have it,” Cas said.

 “Someone has to have it…” he muttered and walked back to Dean, who had been crawling towards Michael’s sword. Lucifer picked it up, grabbed Dean by his blood splattered hair, and held the blade against his neck. Cas struggled to pick himself up, but his arms collapsed beneath him.

 “Whoever has my ring is going to give it to me,” Lucifer said. He eyed Dean eagerly. “Or the Winchester loses his life...again.”

 Cas’s eyes were wide and rimmed with fear. Michael glared, his nostrils flaring.

 “Need I remind you, Michael, that without a vessel you can’t leave Purgatory?” Lucifer said.

 “Brother,” Michael said jadedly, “don’t you think that if I had the Ring I would do more than just lie here helplessly?”

 Lucifer scowled, “Your flawless logic perseveres...as usual.”

 “Sam, I know you’re still in there,” Dean pleaded. Lucifer cracked a smile.

 “Still trying? I’ll give you credit, you sure are stubborn.” he said.

 Cas cried out as Lucifer’s arm moved to cut Dean’s throat. His muscles tensed, but his hand froze. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

 “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lucifer groaned.

 “Seems you aren’t as strong as you thought,” Michael japed, clearly taking pleasure in his brother’s failure.

 Lucifer’s hand released the sword. It clattered to the ground. He clenched his fist and unclenched his fist until it became effortless to do so once again. He rolled his neck and pushed back his shoulders.

 “Sorry about that folks, back to our regularly scheduled program,” he said.

 “I simply hate to interrupt you, terribly rude of me,” a Southern voice drawled from the outskirts of the clearing. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you hurt him or my angel friends anymore.”

 Lucifer curled his lip at the vampire leaning against the tree nonchalantly, as if he was sipping lemonade with old friends on a sunny, humid Louisiana afternoon, not challenging the devil himself while armed with little more than a knife.

 “...And you are…?” Lucifer asked.

 “Name’s Benny. And I already know you, you’ve done enough talking to make sure of that,” he said. Lucifer laughed and started to stalk closer

 “Do you see your friends, who are all much more powerful than you, barely able to stand and close to death? You really think you’d have a better shot of fighting me than they did?”

 “Oh no,” Benny laughed. “You misinterpret me. I know when I can’t win a fight, but I don’t intend to fight...I’m just here to help.”

 Lucifer paused, now only a few feet between himself and the vampire. Even without his sword, his ego assured him of victory.

 “And how exactly do you expect to help them?” He asked. Benny smiled, like a parent on Christmas morning finding joy in the looks of surprise and excitement on his children’s faces.

 “Just a little trinket I found,” he said, toying with something in his hands. “Hey, Dean, what do you make of this?”

 With a light flick of his wrist, he tossed it over Lucifer’s unsuspecting head as easily as tossing a poker chip to a friend. Dean’s hand shot up and snatched the object from the air. He smiled at it in his hand, then glanced up merrily at Benny.

 “Looks like dollar-store plastic if you ask me,” he said, then narrowed his eyes devilishly. “But I’m sure I’ll find some use for it.”

 Dean slipped the Ring onto his finger. It glowed lightly, then shrunk to a perfect fit. Cas smiled, but Michael and Lucifer gawked at him.

 “A human cannot possibly contain the Ring’s power,” Lucifer said.

 “Dean, don’t be a fool!” Michael yelled. “You’ll incinerate yourself and trap me here forever!”

 “That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he said, picking up Michael’s sword. As he did, the light spread to it and it heated up in his hand. The ruby repaired itself. Dean felt a magnetic pull from it. Letting the light pull him forward, he guided it to its target. The sword slashed across Lucifer’s pitch-black armor, leaving a streak of light. He stumbled back and gaped at the hit to his armor.

 The sword refused to rest, and Dean gladly swung at Lucifer again. He pushed it away, but didn’t have time to strike back. The blade seemed to accelerate after each strike, and Lucifer’s confidence teetered as he found himself sweating to keep up. Finally, an attack hit its mark as Dean sliced across Lucifer’s shoulder. A thin sheet of blood streamed out.

Dean raised his sword to swing again, but Lucifer raised his hand. Dean felt his sword yanked from his grasp, tearing through the force intertwining the sword and ring. He reached for it, but an invisible force flung it across the clearing. Dean turned to Lucifer.

 Lucifer raised his hand again, and aimed his unseen force at Dean. It blasted against him, but the light from the Ring spread to Dean’s feet like roots extending from a tree. Rapid wind scraped his face and tried to lift him into the air, but he held his ground. When it passed, Lucifer stared at him with a look of confusion and disgust.

 Dean furrowed his brow and punched the air. The force slammed into Lucifer, successfully supplanting him. He tumbled through the air and landed with a crash. He looked up through Sam’s disheveled hair now imbued with grime. Dean planted his foot and channeled the power of the Ring, summoning it through his fingertips. He felt it extending from his hand to entangle Lucifer in its steely grip. Dean felt his brother’s soul smothered underneath spiritual layers created by Lucifer. Recalling his own approach to digging his way out of Michael’s mental labyrinth, he reversed the way and plunged his hands into the darkness. This time, his guiding torch was Sam’s soul, calling out for help.

 As the force stretched farther and farther while still having to repel Lucifer’s dark tendrils, Dean could feel it drawing more on his own energy. He felt his soul being pulled out of his body, being sucked into the darkness of Lucifer’s heart.

 Just as the very last of his soul was being torn away by the Ring, someone grabbed his hand. It refused to let him slip away. It simultaneously acted as an anchor to stop his soul from being dragged out into the unknown and as a beacon, piercing through the darkness to guide his soul back to its proper place. Before he began the perilous journey home, Dean hooked Sam’s soul. Like pulling a rubber band taut until it snaps, Dean strained to pull both Sam and his own soul free. Finally, the last of the restraints broke. Dean’s soul fell back into place, and he fell backwards, dark circles around his eyes. 

Even though he’d returned to his body, Dean wouldn’t let go of the hand. He knew its curves and calluses, and the familiar way it fit perfectly with his own like two puzzle pieces locking together. His vision was blurry, but he touched Cas’s face. His suspicions were confirmed by his scruff which rubbed against his hands like sandpaper.

 Cas was looking away, and Dean followed his line of sight.  Due to his hazy vision he was convinced that the two figures lying before him were no more than optical illusions. However, as the fuzziness cleared, the illusion remained.

 With a sense of sureness, he limped forward and cradled his brother in his arms. Although he wasn’t moving, Dean knew he was alright because he had felt his brother’s soul and it had been whole. Pretty badly scratched up, but whole nonetheless.

 “Sammy,” he said, without even a hint of worry in his voice. His words didn’t even seem directed at Sam, but rather just an assurance to the world that yes, this was his brother. His brother who traversed half of America with him while fighting demons, monsters, and even other humans. His brother, who he had gone through Heaven and Purgatory, and it certainly felt like, Hell for. His brother, who he had given his life for once and who had almost returned the favor. Almost, but not yet.

 “Dean,” Cas said earnestly, motioning towards Lucifer, who was lying motionless. Michael had managed to drag himself over to him, wincing with each step. He was shaking his arm fervently. Lucifer twitched.

 “Nice job getting your brother back,” Benny said, “but maybe save the reunion for later?”

 “Dean?” Sam moaned, starting to come to.

 Cas and Dean lifted Sam up, and Dean assured him, “Don’t worry, we’ve got you.” They staggered out of the clearing. Benny rushed after them nervously.

 “Let me help you with that,” he said, picking Sam up and draping him over his shoulder. Dean and Cas nodded gratefully. Somewhere behind them, a tree fell with a crash that sent a shudder through the forest. Cas, Dean and Benny looked at each other worriedly and increased their pace.

 “There’s an exit close by,” Benny said, glancing back again. “If we can make it.”

 “We’ll make it,” Dean said, glaring at the path in front of them as if that would will them to move faster.

 They increased their speed to an irregular run, staying determined even as the ground seemed to slope upwards. The top of the incline was in sight when the two angels appeared at the bottom.

 “Dean, stop where you are!” Michael yelled, but was completely ignored.

 When they reached the top, the group nearly collapsed, but they held on. Before them stood a door which was the complete negative of the one they’d arrived in. It was dark and had copper welding decorating it in a macabre style. Dean pulled against the handle, which had been frozen by disuse. As he worked the dust out of the hinges, Benny delicately handed Sam, who had regained most of his consciousness, over to Cas.

 “You’re not coming with us?” Dean asked. Benny shook his head.

 “I can’t. No human vessel,” he shrugged.

 “We can find a way-” Cas began, but Benny held up his hand.

 “Somebody’s got to keep an eye on those two,” he said. “So don’t either of you worry about me.”

 Just then, Dean broke through the rust. He opened the door and faint tendrils of shadow drifted out of it.

 “You can’t just leave us here,” an enraged voice said. They turned to see Lucifer and Michael standing angrily at the top of the hill. In their ire, they had fully expanded their wingspans, however it was clear they had been mutilated from their former elegant and breathtaking states. Now, Lucifer was missing the tip of a wing on his great expanse of blackened feathers, many of which had fallen off and those that remained were frail and coarse. Michael’s once golden wings were now polluted with a mixture of blood, and mud. Many of the golden feathers faded into a smoky color, having been fried by Michael’s own holy lightning. Perhaps Dean should have felt pity, but the bloating on Cas’s face made him forget that.

 “We’ll be trapped here forever,” Lucifer hissed.

 “Heaven will collapse without us,” Michael spit.

 “You poor souls,” Dean snapped. He handed Michael’s now weathered sword to Benny, giving him one last encouraging slap on his back. “Give ‘em hell for me.”

 “My pleasure,” Benny said, taking the sword with a smile.

 With that, Dean thrusted the door open. He vaguely heard yelling from Michael and Lucifer, and even saw a flash of light, but the darkness that swallowed them quickly blocked that out.

 When it spit them out again, they fell onto a cold stone floor. Dean jumped up and locked the door with a satisfying click. They observed the strange monastery-like room they were in, and tried to pinpoint the source of the ambient red light leaking in through the windows. The door at the opposite end of the room opened. A short man in a black suit poked his head in.

 “What’s all the racket in here?” he asked in an irritated Scottish accent.

 “Where’s the exit?” Dean asked, too exhausted to answer questions. The man raised his eyebrow and his frown deepened.

 “It’s not that easy to get out of Hell,” he warned. Dean and Cas looked at each other with a glances of annoyance. The Ring that was still wrapped around Dean’s finger began to glow menacingly.

 “Where’s the exit?” Dean repeated unblinkingly. The man shrunk away from the Ring and pointed towards a door down the hallway.

“Thanks,” Dean said as he, Sam and Cas walked out.


	16. Epilogue

As Dean gazed up at the imposing door to Michael's office, he couldn't help but be reminded of the horrible turn of events that occurred the last time he walked through those doors. Now he had even less of an idea what lay beyond them. He glanced to his sides. At least this time he had Sam and Castiel with him.

"You said the Hell's Angels were keeping Michael's angels at bay until we returned?" Castiel asked. Sam nodded.

"Before we go in there," Dean said, taking Cas's hand and turning to Sam.

"I know," Sam said, looking away, "agreeing to be a vessel for Satan was risky and stupid and not worth getting killed over."

"Well, yes," Dean said, "but thank you. For not giving up on me."

"Thanks for not giving up on me," Sam said, pulling Dean in for a hug.

"Alright, we better open this door now," Dean said, pulling away.

"We don't know what we'll find in there," Cas said, "so be prepared for anything."

They opened the door, and were immediately met with a bouquet of swords. They put their hands up in peace. Cas peered over one of the swords to find a familiar face.

"Castiel?" A voice asked in disbelief. The swords fell away, and the Hell's Angels stood before them, gaping in disbelief. Balthazar narrowed his eyes at Sam and Dean.

"Michael and Lucifer?" He asked. They both frowned.

"Just making sure" Balthazar said.

"We didn't think you would make it," Samandriel said. Anna hugged them all.

"You're alright?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I told you she would be fine," Cas said. "Anna is very resilient."

"Did you… get it?" Hannah asked nervously. Cas nodded and motioned towards Dean, who raised his hand to show them the Ring. They all leaned in eagerly to see it.

"So...what exactly happened down there?" Hannah asked, eyeing both Dean and Sam nervously.

"We'll catch you up later…" Sam said.

Dean took a step back from the angels, and tugged at the ring. It popped off, steaming slightly. He looked at Cas, his cheeks heating up.

"I'm sorry we never found God, but...," he held out the Ring, "here you go."

Cas smiled softly and clasped his hands around Dean's.

"Thank you," he said.

Dean smiled back as Cas slipped his hands away. Then Dean's eyes widened. He fell backwards, gasping for breath. Cas ran forward and caught him. His eyes searched Dean eagerly for a wound. Sam leaned over him. Cas was too concerned to even notice that Sam was digging his nails into his shoulder.

"Dean?! What's wrong? I don't see any blood." Sam said, his words tumbling out. Cas shook his head.

"That's because there's no wound." he glared at the Ring in his hand. "Harnessing a fraction of God's power, even if only for a short time, is too tremendous a strain for any human no matter their willpower."

"He's dying?" Sam exclaimed. He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. His mouth felt numb as he tried to form sounds. "I can't lose him again," he said, his voice saturated with heartbreak. Dean shook as he summoned the power to take Sam's hand.

"You're not losing me," he said. Dean looked up and stretched a smile over his face. "...Remember the Happy Burger in Ohio?"

Sam laughed weakly.

"And the guacamole salad…" he said with a shudder.

"And I stood next you all night as you leaned over the toilet? It's like that…"

"Dean I don't-"

"Let me finish. It's like that because no matter what happens I'll always be watching out for you."

"How can you do that if you die?" Sam asked, the reality of his words punching him in the gut.

"It hasn't stopped me yet," Dean joked. Then his face became serious. "This is your chance Sam. Do what you want, be whatever you want. Whether it's a hunter or something else."

"What about your chance Dean? Why don't you deserve a second chance?"

"I've gotten my second chance." Dean glanced at Cas tenderly. "I'll be fine...I don't believe in all that superstitious crap, Heaven's plans or destiny. It was my choices that brought me here and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Sam bowed his head solemnly.

"I'm going to miss you, Dean'"

"I'll miss you too." Dean said. "But we'll see each other again. Although, that better not be for a long time."

Sam's mouth edged up as he wiped a tear away. Dean's breathing slowed and became wheezy as he squeezed Sam's hand one last time. Tears blurred Cas's eyes as Dean's glazed over.

"Will I end up in the Waiting Room again?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded.

"Yes, but I will find you, no matter how long I must search. A-and I will fix Heaven," Castiel said. "I will make a new plot there just for you."

He embraced Dean one last time, rubbing his head into his shoulder. His tears left damp streaks across Dean's shirt. Dean closed his eyes peacefully.

"I know you will," he said, drifting away. Cas gripped him tighter; If gripping him tight had worked once, perhaps it could work again. But although Cas held on with all his strength, Dean's soul slipped away.

For the second time that year, Sam buried his brother. This time he laid down his guilt and regret with his cowlilys. He even cracked a smile, knowing that Dean would hate being laid to rest decorated with flowers. The tears still stung his cheeks, but he wiped them away with Bobby's tissue.

"God works in mysterious ways," the priest said, "we mortals cannot hope to understand His plans."

Sam moaned inwardly at the sappyness of the priest. He regretted hiring him, but he wanted to give Dean a proper funeral this time, and yes that included having a priest. Sam just knew Dean would have scoffed at his preachy sermon.

"God gives and God takes. What may seem a horrible tragedy, to lose someone so young and so dear to our hearts, is part of God's larger plan for all of us. All we can do is have faith."

There was a soft murmur of Amen as the small group disbanded. Sam went to thank the priest, only to find Cas already talking to him.

"I completely concur with your sermon," he was saying. "How can humans even attempt to understand Him when angels cannot? Or his own children for that matter?"

"You mean...Jesus?" The priest asked quizzically.

"I was referring to Lucifer and Michael-" he said as Sam interrupted to thank the priest and send him on his way. Once everyone had left, only Sam, Bobby and Cas remained.

"What a load of horsecrap," Bobby said in regards to the sermon. Sam laughed.

"Yeah, I know," he agreed.

"That boy was one of the finest hunters I ever knew," Bobby said. "But he was also one of the finest people I knew, whether or not he knew it himself. He was strong and courageous and brave, all important traits for a hunter. But that wasn't what truly shaped him, although that's what he and his old man thought. No, he was also kind, thoughtful, and caring."

Sam bowed his head respectfully as a single tear rolled down Bobby's face. He sniffled.

"I'm never going to stop loving that boy," he said. Sam nodded his head.

"Me too," Cas agreed. Bobby rubbed his eyes, and glanced around cautiously.

"Looks clear," he said, pulling out a box of matches. "He deserves a true hunter's funeral."

Sam nodded. He was once again sacrificing his brother to the flames, but this time they would act to purify instead of consume. He watched the flames dance for a moment, shivering as he was suddenly reminded of being trapped within Lucifer's mind. He pulled himself out of the painful memories, and felt a weight evaporate off his chest as he dropped the match.

They stood back and watched the pyre burn till twilight. It illuminated them in the faint light, and Cas caught himself thinking of the time spent in Purgatory and how Benny was doing. He breathed in the clear air, and savored the slight breeze on the wind. By nightfall, the fire had burnt out.

 

 

 

"How was it?" Dean asked, lounging back on the couch, sipping a chilled beer.

"The priest gave a lovely sermon," Cas said. Dean spit out his beer.

"There was a priest?" he asked incredulously. Cas nodded, and Dean shook his head. "That kid's faithful to the end."

Cas nodded and snuggled up against Dean, who placed his beer down and wrapped his arms around Cas.

"How was he?" Dean asked, a hint of worry slipping into his words.

"Good," Cas said. "Surprisingly good. I think he'll be alright."

"Nice to hear that...for once," Dean said, sinking farther into the couch and Cas's embrace.

"How's Heaven holding up?" he asked.

"Samandriel tells me that all the Waiting Rooms have been filled out and we still have extra plots. Too many to even count," Cas said.

"That's good," Dean said. "And the Ring?"

"Still in the Treasury, ready for when God returns," Cas said. Dean smiled.

"Dean," Cas said, looking up sadly at Dean. "You deserve so much more than this. I only wish I could have harnessed all of the Ring's power, beyond just expanding Heaven, or if I had Michael's power. Then I could give you everything you want."

"Cas," Dean said, taking Cas's face in his hands and giving him a quick kiss on his forehead, "I already have everything I could every want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya'll enjoyed this fic. Hope I didn't get too sappy at the end lol, but I couldn't help myself. Thanks for reading this all the way through. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did :)))


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